Big Brother Instinct
by sleepinginthestorms
Summary: Because Will can't help but protect his little sister. Oneshots about Will and Cecily, with appearances from Ella.
1. East End

**A/N: Thought this would be a cute idea, since Clare said that Will feels pretty protective towards Cecily. See the bottom for English translations.**

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Will ducked his head into the collar of his coat, shielding as much as his face from the wind and rain as possible. He hurried down the street, keen to spend as little time here as possible. The memory of his last visit still haunted him…

He walked swiftly around the corner and was about to cross the street when he took an absentminded glance behind him, for no reason, really, but was glad he did. Something had caught his eye It was the corner of dark blue cloak lined with black lace darting quickly behind the building he walked along. Will frowned and stopped in his tracks, retracing his steps until he was at the staircase leading up to the door of the building. Standing there in the alcove with a furious look on her face was Cecily.

"What are you doing here?" Will demanded.

"I could ask you the same question," Cecily shot back, pulling down her hood and revealing her long raven black hair, pulled back with a indigo ribbon. "I was getting a pitcher of water for my room and saw you leave. You haven't changed at all, _brawd mawr*._ Always wandering."

"You haven't changed much either," Will said. "You can never leave anything alone. Go home now. I don't want you here."

"I don't know the way," Cecily said. "I haven't spent as much time in London as you have, Will. Where are we, anyway?" She pulled her cloak closer to her.

"The East End," Will said. "Whitechapel. I need to get something."

"Take me with you," Cecily said abruptly.

Will shook his head. "I don't want to. You're too young to get mixed up in a place like this."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Cecily asked. "I already said I don't know how to get back, and I can't stay here."

Will studied his sister, torn. Whatever he chose, he wouldn't be entirely comfortable with it. He didn't want to drag her along to the ifrit den, but he didn't want to let her go off by herself trying to find her way out of the East End by herself. No. The thought of his sister roaming through the streets of one of London's seediest areas alone late at night was enough to make him shudder. It would be better to let her come along wit him—at least he would be able to keep an eye on her.

"All right," he said. "All right. You can come with me. But don't leave my side for one second. Don't say a word. Don't look at anyone. Keep your head down and stay close."

Feeling suddenly worried, Cecily didn't argue and did what was asked of her. She slipped her arm into Will's and they set off.

"It's just a little further," Will said, nearly running.

"Slow down!" Cecily protested, hurrying to keep up.

Will lessened his pace a little, but not by much. All of his senses were on full alert.

A short, greasy looking man intercepted them at the next block, holding a candle in one hand and a box of wilting flowers in the other. Will reached into his pocket, feeling his knife.

"A daisy for the pretty girl?" the man asked Cecily, leering terribly at her and reaching out, catching hold of her cloak and bringing her to a halt.

She gasped and immediately made to pull her cloak out of his grasp, but froze completely when the man's hand moved to her wrist. Right away, Will pulled out his knife and was pointing it him. "Touch her any longer with your filthy hands and you'll go right to hell," he growled.

The man loosened his grip and with a tug, Cecily wrenched her hand out of his grasp, thoroughly frightened. She and Will left the man faster than ever, Cecily not complaining this time.

"See why I don't want you here?" Will muttered, looking around. "Full of suspicious characters, all just wanting to ravage some girl for himself."

"Don't—" Cecily said, and Will heard to his surprise, a touch of vulnerability. It was the first time he had ever seen her scared.

Neither of them said anything more for the rest of the way, and fortunately, they weren't met with any others. Finally, the reached the building Will was looking for. He knocked twice. While they waited, Cecily stared at the place. The door they were at was clear of people, but around them at other buildings, it was different. Men and women crowded the doors of them, singing and laughing hysterically after a night's worth of heavy drinking. Many of the women, who were clearly whores, wore very promiscuous clothing, men gazing after them with lust. Cecily had never seen such a sight.

The opening of the door startled her. A woman dressed in similar clothing to the prostitutes had answered. Will spoke with her, and she led them into a narrow hall. Cecily could smell something sweet as they ventured further in, a smell that reminded her of Jem. She finally realized why Will was here.

When the hall widened, she saw a room what she imagined might have been on a boat. Bunks were attached to the dark red walls, men lying on them, obviously under the influence of some drug. Opium? She remembered her father reading about the drug in and the Chinese in the paper and how there was trouble with it.

Will pulled her along. "I need more of the _yin fen_," he said. "I know there's not much, but I have this—" He held out a bag full of coins.

The woman looked inside. "Oh, what a handsome payment," she purred. "What a wonderful boy. Getting more for your silver friend." She gave Will a pouty look that made Cecily gag. "Not enough, I'm afraid…a kiss might make up the price…"

Will grabbed the woman by the collar of her dress. "Listen, warlock. I'm not here to play games. Just give me what I want. There's over seventy-five pounds in this bag; that's more than enough."

The woman, or the warlock, Cecily supposed, laughed and took the bag. "Very well, angel boy." She disappeared into another room, and Cecily gave a start when she saw a forked tail.

"Will—" Cecily breathed.

"Shh," Will whispered. He must have felt her jump. "Don't be afraid…"

Easier said than done, Cecily thought. She prayed that none of the men around would wake up and see her. She had had enough experience with strangers for one night.

Was this what Will had to go through whenever he went to get the drug for Jem? Cecily felt sorry for her brother, sad that he had to go through this horror so often.

The warlock returned, bearing another bag. Will tucked it into his pocket. "Thank you," he said curtly. "Come on, let's go," he said to Cecily quietly. She obeyed without any hesitation; this was the worst place she had ever been in her life.

It took them a while to navigate through the streets. Cecily let out a breath after she began to recognize the cleaner buildings and roads, signaling they were back in familiar—and safer—territory. "Will, what was that?" she asked.

"An ifrit den," her brother replied. "That's where I need to go for Jem's medicine."

"It was terrible."

"Then I don't ever want to see you there—or anywhere around the East End—again," Will said. "If you need an adventure, ask me for a novel. There's plenty of stimulation in Dickens."

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**A/N: Sorry if it's sloppy; I wrote this pretty quickly. **

***b****ig brother**


	2. Act 2, Scene 2

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. I do not own Romeo and Juliet, either.**

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"Hurry up," Cecily said, pacing back and forth outside Will's room. "I'm hungry and we're late."

"Just a second," came Will's drawling voice from within his room. "You go on without me, if you want."

"Oh, stop saying such useless things," Cecily snapped. "How am I supposed to find my way around this place?" She looked up and down the corridor. "Tell Charlotte she needs to put some up some landmarks."

There was a momentary pause and then the door opened and Will emerged, ready for afternoon tea. "I thank you for waiting, _fach_."

Cecily scowled. "Stop calling me that."

"I shall call you whatever I like."

They argued all the way to the drawing room. The bickering reminded Cecily of the squabbles she and Will would get into when they were children. Right when Cecily would think of a clever comeback, Ella, the good girl of the household, would intervene and set them each an afternoon's worth of writing lessons for misbehaving.

Tessa and Jem were already there and talking quietly when the siblings made their entrance. "Good afternoon you two," Cecily said.

Tessa smiled. "Hello," she returned. Cecily sat down across from her, Will taking one of the solitary seats by the window. Tessa offered Cecily a cup and sandwich, which she accepted.

"What kept you?" Jem asked curiously. "It's rare that you're tardy to a meal, Will."

"The mind calls," Will said airily, tapping the side of my head.

Tessa looked at Jem, confused, but for once, even Will's _parabatai_ didn't understand what he meant. Cecily filled in, "He means he needed to make a note about something he was reading." She had heard him utter the phrase several times to their parents and Ella when Cecily had been young.

"_Will, where were you? Father's furious you missed your lesson." _

_ "I'll tell him the mind called." _

_ "I hope you have a good explanation for not helping your older sister with the wood, young man."_

_ "Yes Mother, the mind was calling." _

"Exactly," Will said, taking a crumpet and spreading jam over it.

"You look very nice today, Cecily," Jem said. Cecily raised an eyebrow, her teacup at her lips. "Not that you don't always," Jem amended quickly. Cecily laughed.

"Why, thank you, Jem. I've had this dress for a while, but I'm glad it hasn't lost any of its original appeal."

"It's a quite lovely one," Tessa agreed. It was pure white with a loose, flowy skirt that had a few different layers of fabric, like a ballerina's, though not as…poofy. A purple sash was tied around Cecily's waist, matching the purple flowers adorning her dark hair, bringing out the vibrant blue-violet color of her eyes.

"It's very easy to run around in," she was saying. "I could climb a tree in this thing."

"You…you've climbed a tree before?" Tessa asked. Young girls didn't learn how to romp around in the woods, they learned how to sew and dance.

"Certainly, all the time. Well, not so much here. I don't mean to offend your beloved city, but I find this place to be quite unremarkable," Cecily said, a little bluntly. "It's all the same, isn't it? Gray skies, gray water."

"You and Will both have the same thoughts," Jem said. "He said the exact same when he first came here."

"Well…that's what Herondales think, I suppose," Cecily said. "Anyway, what was I even talking about. Tree, climbing, that's right. I haven't in a while; I hurt my ankle last time I did."

"You hurt yourself?" Will asked. "When? You should have told me."

"I already said, last time I was climbing," Cecily. "Before I came here. The branches were quite close together and I caught my foot in between two of them; I had to pull it out rather hard to get it free."

"That sounds painful," Tessa said worriedly.

"I'm all right," Cecily assured her. "One of the village boys who was riding his bike nearby helped me bandage it myself."

Will's head snapped up. "A boy? Who?"

"Robert Collins. He works for the post manager."

"Well, what was he doing out there?"

"He had a package he was delivering," Cecily said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He saw I needed help, so he helped me back home. That's all."

"Did you tell him anything?"

Cecily made a face. "Not anything about _this_, of course not. What do you take me for? Besides, we already knew each other. We'd seen each other a few times before.

"But listen, Tessa. I know you'll love this. I woke in the middle of the night because he was throwing pebbles at my window. I opened it, and there he was, quoting Shakespeare."

Tessa clasped her hands together. "Oh, how lovely!" she sighed.

"_But soft, what light though yonder window breaks?_

_It is the East, and Cecily is the sun._

_Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,_

_Who is already sick and pale with grief_

_That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she._

"Is that what he said?" Will asked.

Without a trace of embarrassment, Cecily said, "Yes." She spoke with a touch of defiance, raising her chin slightly.

"It better not have ended how Shakespeare wrote it," Will said.

Cecily set down her cup. "It didn't. He kissed me instead," she said, rather nonchalantly, Tessa thought.

"I'll kill him," Will said furiously.

"Will!" Cecily exclaimed. "Calm down! It's bound to happen someday. Besides, wouldn't you say that's better? I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy it much if I had proposed marriage instead. If you consider that, kissing's not such a terrible infraction."

"Well, I don't want you going around kissing boys," Will said stubbornly, after a moment. "Save that for when you're committed to someone. God, I wish I could see who this twat is. Was he good-looking? It'd be a real pity if he weren't. He should be counting his blessings that—"

"Shush, you," Cecily said. "He was quite handsome, with soft brown hair and green eyes."

"Well, I hope you didn't waste it," Jem said. "I've been told a girl's first kiss is the most special."

Cecily smiled, a gesture that made her face light up. "It wasn't," she said, almost proudly. "Although, he wasn't my first, not exactly. Do you remember who was."

"He doesn't count," Will said mulishly. "That was on the cheek only. This is different."

"Alexander Lane," Cecily told the others. "He snuck one on me when we were playing in the courtyard when we young, only seven or eight. Then he called me something, I can't recall it now, but I do remember punching him in the face for it. Needless to say, I didn't see much of him after that.

"Fret not, brother," Cecily said. "There are plenty of boys here for me, but you needn't worry. Half of them are idiots; I won't be bothering with them."

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**A/N: Please review! Leave me some ideas you'd like to see! **


	3. Welcome

**A/N: Thanks for all the response you've given me so far! A quick note on requests: I've got a few other chapters of this story already written, so if you've ask for something, don't expect it for a few weeks. Mostly I want ideas for future chapters. I probably won't get around to doing all of them, so I'll choose the ones I like best. **

**Now to the story. This is set on the day of Cecily's birth. It's short, but I think that's how it works. I tried to capture a bit of Will's naiveté and child-ness (not the bad grammar when he speaks) in this, since he's so young. Whether I did or did not, tell me.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

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Will and Ella sat in Ella's room. Ella was attempting to read a new book, one of the new children's books from the store, but Will wasn't able to relax. He moved from seat to seat, climbing on the vanity, bouncing on the bed until he got tired and flopping down onto the pillows. For a three-year old, this was too much.

"Will, stay still," Ella admonished him. "Father told us to not to make any noise."

"I can't!" Will said. "What if it's a boy? I want a boy. If it was a girl, there would be too many of them. Me and Papa would be taken over by you and Mama and the baby. And girls can't play in the creek or climb the trees or splash in the puddles and they always cry. I'll have no fun."

"Don't say that," Ella said. "If it's a girl, you'll have just the same amount as fun with her as you would if it was a boy. You'll see." Will's older sister was only two years older than him, but at five, she seemed to hold all the knowledge in the world to him. "Anyway, as soon as you see her, you won't care if she's a girl or a boy. All you'll want to do is be the best brother you can be for her."

"Or him."

"Or him," Ella conceded.

They said nothing for a few more minutes. Will lay on the bed so that his head was hanging off, turning his face red. He kicked his feet back and forth on the mattress, impatiently humming a nonsensical tune. A million thoughts were racing through his head. For all his life (an admittedly short life so far), he had always been the younger one. Now he'd be the older one, at least towards one sibling.

Thinking about it was exciting, but scary too. It seemed like a millennia since Will's parents had sat him and Ella down to explain they'd be getting a new brother or sister in a few months. A few months, Will realized, translated to almost a year, and during the time, he had almost put it out of his head. Now the big moment was almost right on top of him. He had given almost no thought about being a big brother until today.

What were big brothers supposed to do for their little sister? Will supposed that they played different roles than big sisters did to little sisters. Big sisters taught them how to sit nicely, be polite, and talk to boys so that the boy would fall in love with them forever and ever. Big brothers, on the other hand...

The door opened. Ella snapped her book shut and looked up, expectant. Will froze for a second and then flipped himself right side up, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He pushed them impatiently out of the way. "Well?" he asked their father.

Their father had a worn look on his face, but he smiled broadly. "It's a girl," he said. "Go to see her now."

Ella leapt off the bed and raced out of the room, nearly tripping on her white nightgown. Edmund went after her, with Will following more resignedly. A girl…?

In his parents' room, Ella was already leaning on the bed, staring at a little thing being cradled by their mother. Will had never seen her as tired as she was then, looking exhausted and fatigued. But then she smiled. "Come closer, Will," she said. "Don't you want to see your little sister?"

"She's absolutely perfect," Ella sighed happily. "Will, do look."

Will edged closer to the big bed and peered at the infant. She looked a curious sight to Will, slightly pink and just a few tufts of the signature Herondale black hair. Her face was tiny and crinkled up slightly. Will frowned down at her and then addressed his mother.

"She's awful quiet, Mama. Shouldn't she be crying?"

"She did," their mother said. "She's sleeping now. She will be for a long time."

_Sleeping. _Will felt very odd. Ella was sitting on the bed now and had taken the baby from their mother. She rocked the baby back and forth, slowly, and smoothing down her hair. "Oh, what's her name?" she whispered excitedly.

"Cecily," said their father. "Cecily Herondale."

"What a beautiful name," Ella breathed, full of joy. Then she spotted Will looking at them. "Do you want to hold her?" She looked at their mother for approval, who gave it with a small nod. Mutely, Will held his arms out. "Be very careful with her," Ella warned. "Get on."

Will pulled himself onto the sheets and took Cecily. Right then, something changed, and he was glad for a girl.

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**A/N: By the way, what do you think of the cover for the story? Hope you liked this chapter! Please review~**


	4. To London Part 1

**A/N: A slight deviation this chapter; it's mostly Will-leaving-home-after-Ella-dies-centric, but if you wanted more brother-sister stuff, don't worry! There are a couple scenes with them together. I just really wanted to write this, but since there are some Will and Cecily parts, I thought you guys might want to read it too. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

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Something other than the birds woke Will up. Someone was screaming, horrible screams filled with grief and anguish. Will leapt out of bed and ran out into the corridor. Across the hall, Cecily had also been roused and was standing in her doorway, blue eyes wide and fearful. She ran towards Will and threw her arms around him.

"Mama and Papa," she managed, her voice trembling. "Oh Will, they're in Ella's room; I don't know what to do! I know something terrible has happened, I just know it!" She started to cry.

"Shh," Will said. "Go back in your room. I'll go see what it is." He gently untangled himself from Cecily and crept down the hall to Ella's room. The door was slightly ajar. Their mother was definitely in there, as well as their father. With his finger, he edged the door open wider.

A horrible sight met his eyes. His mother was at the side of the bed, hands clasped together like she was in prayer. His father stood over her, head bowed. And on the bed…

Ella. She had swelled up. Her skin was a grotesque green-black mixture, like something putrid inside of her had spread outward. It looked as though she had rotted overnight. He couldn't stand to look any longer, and yet, wasn't able to force himself to look away from the scene.

_All who you love will die. Their love will be their destruction. It may take moments, it may take years, but any who look upon you with love will die of it, unless you remove yourself from them forever. And I shall begin it with _her.

The words had seemed harmless the night before, but now…

He heard a sharp noise and jumped. His mother and father had seen him. He pushed the door open farther, but his father was there to stop him. "Back to your room," he said curtly. And he shut the door. Will heard a click that mean the door was locked.

His room was the last place Will wanted to be. He stood outside the door, hands curled up in fists. He could feel himself shaking, shaking too hard to make himself think. Will squeezed his eyes shut, wanting not to see, not to believe—but it was useless. His sister was dead, at only fourteen years old. No matter how hard he tried, Will couldn't get that image out of his head. Now that he had seen it, it would haunt him forever.

Opening his eyes, he heard the howling inside Ella's room had stopped. Low murmurings had replaced it instead. They were plans on what to do next. A funeral? No. Not by the church, anyway, Will thought bitterly.

"Will?"

He spun around, coming face to face with Cecily.

"She's dead, isn't she?" Cecily's face was white.

Will didn't even hesitate. He gave a short nod and watched as Cecily burst into tears. "Oh, God!" she wailed. She fell to her knees, sobbing. Will was about to kneel down with her and then froze.

No more love. No more affection. None of that. Never again.

"I'm sorry, _chwaer fach_," he said. With that, Will returned to his room, leaving his sister on the floor.

"What have I done?" he whispered. Now alone, Will sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. The curse was real. This had just proved it.

He'd have to leave. As soon as possible. Everyone who ever cared about him was in this house, now one person short because of him. He was a danger to his own family, a death sentence if he stayed any longer. Will got up and pulled his trunk out of his closet. It was heavy and cumbersome, but it was the only thing he could find. He was sure him mother could find something more travel suitable, but he couldn't risk it.

Will rummaged through his clothes and picked out a few shirts, trousers, and a heavy coat to go over his normal one. He locked the case and shoved it back into the closet. Then he crawled back into bed, closing his eyes. _Where will I go?_ he thought. London. To the place where this whole mess was born, to the place where his father must have learned how to be a Shadowhunter.

The reality hit him then. He was going away, probably for the rest of his life. He'd never get to return, not until everyone was dead. This would be the last time he'd get to sleep in this bed, in this house. The moment he left would be the end of it. A tear trickled down his face; Will wiped it away. It was a girl thing to do, to cry. But he couldn't help it. Waves of grief and torment rolled over him, and he cried himself to sleep again.

When he woke next, it was considerably later in the day. "He's been sleeping for four house," he heard his father say.

"Let him," his mother said. "If that is his way of coping, then so be it…."

Will fell back on the pillows, exhausted from his weeping. The clock read one in the afternoon. After a second, he pulled himself out of bed and opened the door. His parents were there, their backs to him. They turned when they heard him.

"Will…"

He ignored them and pushed past, and past Ella's room as well, not giving it a glance as he went down the stairs. Coming up them was Cecily. She halted on her way. Will saw that she had her black morning band worn around her dark blue sleeve. "Mama didn't have time to find my proper mourning clothes," she mumbled, not looking at Will. "Oughtn't you be wearing your own band?"

Will didn't say anything; he was feeling odd.

"Never mind," Cecily said. "I shouldn't be—"

"Shut up," Will said, in a tone colder than he had ever used when talking to Cecily. She broke off, and looked up, surprised. "Just shut up."

He did not know what made him say it, but didn't do anything to take it back. He walked past Cecily with just enough of a look to see her blue eyes widen with hurt. "Will!"

He paused on the bottom step, and the continued on his way.

"_Will!"_ Cecily screamed.

Will wanted to press his hands to ears, to block out the sound. He'd never heard his sister speak to him in such a voice, a voice with so much desperation, so much agony…so much pain.

He pushed the doors open of the house and went outside, walking blindly towards the forest that lay near the house. On the far side was the Herondale, or really, the Astely family burial site. Here were the final resting places of various families on his mother's side: _Modryb_ Carrie, _Ewythr _Charles, _Cyfnither _Martha…Where would Ella fit in here? Will wandered among the graves, looking for a spot where his sister would be able to sleep quietly.

After an hour of wandering, he gave up and went back. No place would be right. Not when she wasn't supposed to be dead in the first place.

For the rest of the day, he stayed shut up in his room. He heard his mother calling him down for dinner when it got later but ignored her. He had to use this time to plan his departure. Will did another check with his pack, adding a few things, and then pulled it around, making sure it would be light enough to not cause trouble for him on the long way to London. Wanting to be awake when he made his journey, Will changed into his sleeping clothes and took a nap.

At eight he woke up and saw that the sun had gone down. Movement in the house was slower. Will was starving, but didn't want to leave his room. He heard Cecily enter her own room at nine and go to bed. His parents stayed up longer, until eleven. He turned his lamp on and returned back into his traveling clothes, depositing his sleeping garments into his case. He did one final go over and locked it up.

The hallway was dark. Will tiptoed down to his parents' room and listened. It was silent. He went back to his room and began to drag his case down the corridor. He edged it down the stairs carefully and left it at the door. Then he ran back up to his room and wrote two notes, one for his parent and one for Cecily. The contents of the letters were almost the same, only saying that him leaving was for the best and for them not to worry about him.

That was where he left Cecily's but on his parents', he added a postscript:

_ In the dining room are Ella's books—please do me this one favor, and bury them with her. I know she loved them and would miss them very much. Also there is Marianne. Do the same with her and bury her with Ella. She'll be able to give Ella company. _

He slid each note under the doors and then went into Ella's room, where she had been taken.

There was no time to waste. He piled as many books up into his arms as he could and made three trips do the dining room and back with all of Ella's novels—Dickens, Austen, the Brontë sisters…

Then he went into the kitchen and packed himself some food, eating two cold rolls and an apple right then to sustain him. He found his father's pocketbook in the study and took out a hundred pounds.

When it was all done, he buttoned his coat up to the collar, tucked his hat over his black hair firmly, and adjusted his scarf. With a turn of the doorknob, he walked out, pulling his case behind him, and started off.

He had walked about an hour before he started to feel tired. "Keep going," he mumbled to himself. "You've probably only walked a few miles…It would take ten minutes for them to find you again."

Another hour and his eyelids felt heavy. He couldn't even keep them open long enough to glance upward and locate the North Star, his main guide. Will went over to the side of the road where the ground was beginning to slope downward in a gentle hill. He laid his case down next to him and settled down for a light sleep in the grass. The grass wasn't as soft as the grass he was used to, but he was grateful anything he got.

"You! Boy!" Will opened his eyes and jumped up. It was morning. Will found himself looking at a large man driving a cart. "What are you doing?"

Will averted his eyes.

"Runaway, eh?" the man said. He snorted. "Well, where you headed to?"

"London," Will said, after a moment.

"Can't take you that far," the man said, "but I'm headed that direction. Come on up. I'll give you a lift to the village after the next. That'll give you a good fourteen or fifteen miles off your feet."

Will broke into a grin, for the first time in a long time, it seemed. "Do you really mean it, sir?"

The man nodded. "You can sit up with me."

"Thank you, sir!" Will grabbed his case and put in the cart, joining the man in the front. He whipped the rains and the horses moved on, Will holding onto the side of the cart for balance.

Thus was how Will made his way to London. A little bit of walking, a little bit of riding. After he was dropped off in one town, he walked another several hours, sometimes several days. It was often that he wouldn't be spotted by passerby until after a few nights out in the open. After weeks of travel, he finally arrived in London.

Now he was by himself. He had told everyone he was on his way to London, and now he was there. He had nothing more specific to look for, only hoping he would stumble upon the right building.

At nights he slept on the filthy streets, using his case to shield him from what wind and rain came his way, which was plenty. He wore every article of clothing he managed to fit on him; it was cold, wandering the streets all hours of the day. Twice he was nearly robbed.

A full month and a half after he had left home, he found it. The Institute. It was an impressive building, but Will was in no mood to admire it. He made his way to the front door and knocked three times.

The person who answered threw him off—it was a woman. Will hadn't expected it to be a girl. Maybe she was a servant. She was small, tiny. Will was already as tall as her. But she had a kind face, and Will knew that she was the same as him.

"I am a Shadowhunter. One of you. You have to let me in. I have nowhere else to go."

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**A/N: Might write a follow up for this, if I feel like it. For now, it's by itself, though.**

**Translations - **

**_chwaer fach / _little sister**

**_modryb_ / aunt**

**_ewyther_ / uncle**

**_cyfnither / _cousin**


	5. Fever Tea

**A/N: Accidentally uploaded the wrong file for the second part of the To London chapter. The right one is now there. Please go and review it! **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

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"Miss Herondale, are you awake?" Sophie tapped on the door and opened. Cecily was completely buried under the covers, so that her head wasn't even visible. All that could be seen of her was just a small shape under the blankets. One of her pillows was on the floor.

"Come on, miss. You've got to get up, and I need to turn down the bed," Sophie said briskly, opening the curtains. "It's near breakfast." Sophie went to the closet. "Hm…what do you think of this one for today?" She held up a yellow dress with white lace.

Cecily lifted a corner of the blankets and looked at the dress with one bleary eye and then closed it again. "Too audacious," she mumbled, and then disappeared under the covers again.

"This one, then," Sophie said. It was solid soft pink. Cecily didn't say anything. Sophie put the dress on a hook and turned around. She let out a noise of exasperation. "Come now, miss, you can't waste the whole day by sleeping!" She went close to the bed and whisked the blankets off.

Cecily groaned and put her arm over her eyes. "Ugh, please Sophie, don't. My head's splitting. I feel awful."

"What?" Sophie furrowed her brow. "Why didn't you say that earlier?" She felt Cecily's forehead. "You've got a fever. All right, stay in bed. What do you want for breakfast? I can bring it up."

"No, you don't have to do that," Cecily mumbled. "Tell my brother that I'm sick; he'll know what to do."

"Of course." Sophie left the room and went down to the dining room, where Tessa, Jem, and Will were. "Mr. Herondale, your sister is ill," she informed him.

Will frowned. "What is it with her?"

"A fever."

Tessa's hand went to her mouth. "Oh, no. Is it very bad?"

Sophie shrugged. "No way to tell right now, miss. Will you come?" she asked Will. "She said to tell you, that you would know what—what she wanted."

"Tell her I'll be there," he said. Will got up and went into the kitchen. The others heard some clattering around, and then he left. He went upstairs and opened the door to Cecily's room after preparing a tray. "Cecily." He put the tray on the table.

She struggled up and looked at him with tired eyes. "What?" she asked, rather irritably. "Can't a girl get some rest here?"

"What a charming mood you're in, Cecily. You wanted this?" Will held up a cup of tea that had lemon, honey, and mint added to it. It was a remedy that Ella would make them whenever they were sick, a concoction she had learned from their mother early on. It worked miracles on colds and fevers and was the choice medicine for anyone in the Herondale household when under the weather.

Cecily stared at it blankly for a few seconds and then rolled her eyes. "Oh that's right, I did ask for that. Forgot." She took it and sipped it.

"Watch your hair," Will said, putting the long braid that Cecily made for sleep behind her shoulder. "You'll get it dirty."

"Now you sound like Mother," Cecily said, drinking some more.

"I guess you'll be staying around here for the day?" Will asked, changing the subject.

"Not much other I can do," Cecily said.

They fell into silence while Cecily worked on her drink. Will thought about the last time Cecily had been sick. It was hard to think of another time, for Cecily had enjoyed excellent health for most of her life. Consequently, whenever she was ill, everyone who knew her well assumed it was a life-threatening situation. What else could make a girl who was usually so full of vigor and strength feel bad?

"Here," Cecily said, finishing the tea. "Thanks for that."

"Do you want more?" Will asked.

"Oh…just bring one more cup," Cecily said. "I'm going to sleep."

"All right," Will said. "Don't go hiding yourself under all those covers; you want to lower your temperature, not bring it up."

"Oh, _brawd mawr_, don't, I'm so cold though!" Cecily complained.

"That's what you think," Will said sternly. "You aren't."

"No."

"Your stubbornness is endearing, _chwaer fach_," Will said. "Here—we'll compromise." He took the coverlet and quilt, the two heaviest blankets away. "You can have everything else," he said, motioning to the thinnest cover that he'd left.

"Fine," Cecily grumbled, "but don't go crying when I freeze to death."

"You won't freeze," Will said. "Do you want a lunch?"

"Just tea when it's time. But I do want dinner."

Will returned to the dining room, where it seemed breakfast was just finishing up, but Tessa and Jem lingered. The three of them tended to stay in the room for a while after eating, just to have a nice chat before going about with their own business. "How is she?" Tessa asked, concerned.

"Fine," Will said.

"What was that that you brought her?" Jem asked. "It was quite fragrant."

Will sat and pulled a piece of bread apart, eating the torn pieces after dipping them in a dish of jam. "Something that I learned back home," he said. "Tea with honey, lemon, and mint. Oh, damn—" He jumped up and ran to the kitchen. "Thanks for reminder, Jem, old pal."

Jem stood up. "Oi! Where are you—"

Will returned. "She told me to get her some more when I came down. Cecily's always in a real temper whenever she's sick." With that, he dashed up to the room, where, luckily, he discovered that Cecily was once again asleep. He placed the cup quietly on the bedside table and left.

"God, Cecily's a lot to handle," he said, sitting back down next to Jem, continuing on his mutilated bread.

"How so?" Jem asked. "It's not like you're Florence Nightingale in the war," he teased.

"No, I'm not her," Will said. "Still. I don't get much rest when she's like this. Cecily's—very inconsistent when she's sick. First she's screaming at me to get out, then she wants me there, then she's angrier than anything I've ever seen, then she's sobbing. By the time I'm done with her, it feels like I've been the one who's sick. Downright exhausting," he added as an afterthought. Will threw the rest of the bread into his mouth and then forked a rind of bacon.

The rest of the day he spent mostly in two places: the kitchen and Cecily's room. A few hours after lunch, he started on Cecily's dinner—chicken soup. He cooked in mostly himself, though every once in awhile he would call on Bridget to watch it while he went up to Cecily's room to check on her and bring some more tea. Then he would sit by the bed for a little while, reading one of her books to pass the time. A few chapters, and then he would go back downstairs and the process repeated.

At five-thirty, Will tasted a bit of the soup and deemed it to be done. He poured a hearty amount into a bowl and brought it up to Cecily. The soup seemed to cheer him up. Will had made sure to include a nice number of potatoes in the broth. He himself might have been put off by them with their Irish childhood cook, but Cecily loved them and was delighted with their cook.

Perhaps it was the potatoes that did the trick after all, because when Sophie went in to see her the next morning, she was feeling considerably better.

* * *

**A/N: Don't forget to check out the other part of To London, if you haven't! Please review that and this chapter! It would be very nice indeed to return from my trip with some review emails :)**


	6. To London Part 2

******A/N: ********Okay, so no Will-Cecily interaction at all, but whatever. The first part has already been in this particular fanfiction, so the second parts going here too. Next chapter will bring back Will and Cecily stuffs.**

******This chapter is quite emotionally-driven, I think, because this is the chapter where Will spends his first night away from home and his parents come to the Institute. I made a small amendment in the event by adding that Cecily was there as well. Clare never said she _wasn't_ there, so I'm going to have her be there. Anyway, I think I sort of suck at writing about feelings, but I think I did all right here.**

******EDIT: 7/19/12 **

******Reposting because I think some people might have not caught it since I screwed up when I was putting it on the site in the first place.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"We have plenty of rooms," the woman, who said her name was Charlotte, explained. "You can choose any one you want, except for the ones that are taken, of course, but you don't need to worry about that. Only two of the rooms are." She led him out of the library where they had been talking and back into the foyer, going up the stairs.

Will followed her slowly, looking all around him. The place was huge, easy to get hopelessly lost in. Will took quick mental notes on the paintings and ornaments that decorated the halls, wanting to commit them to memory so he wouldn't be as confused when he made his own attempt to find his way around without a guide.

"This is one of the rooms that's taken," Charlotte said, rapping on the door. "There's a girl in here. You'll meet her tonight when we eat."

Will nodded mutely. When he didn't move or do anything else, Charlotte continued on. "Would you like to be near others, or do you prefer to be more private?"

"Private," Will said immediately. They went up another floor. "What's up that staircase?" he asked, pointing.

A smaller set of stairs was situated at the end of the hall, plainer than the main one. Charlotte stopped. "That goes up into the one of the towers."

"Is there a bedroom up there?"

Charlotte walked over to him. "Yes, there is. Would you like to see it?"

"I should like that, thank you."

Charlotte went in front of him and took a candle. It was dimly lit here, the gas lamps that were attached to the walls every few feet burning low. It turned out that there actually wasn't a room right at the top of the stairs, but rather, another long corridor. Charlotte went down it to the end, where Will realized the room was. She opened the door and let him in.

The walls curved, and there were three windows along them, one on each face except the one that they had just come through. A four-poster bed stood opposite the door, tucked up as close to the wall as possible. Next to it was a table with a water jug on and a lamp. That was all the furniture in the room.

"If you'd like to take this room, we'll be very able to be fill it up a bit more," Charlotte assured him. She looked around. "It'll need some dusting too, so you won't be able to use it right away, but—"

"This is fine," Will said. "In fact, I quite like it. When it can be ready?"

Charlotte looked taken aback at his insistence. "Two or three days, at the most. Are you sure you want it, though? It could get quite chilly during the winter, and it's a bit removed from the rest of the Institute."

"I like it," Will repeated. "And if things get really serious, I can always temporarily sleep in one of the other rooms."

"Er, yes, of course," Charlotte said. "Well, let's get you back downstairs for now and I'll have the room prepared."

Charlotte placed him in another room the next floor down and told him that he'd be called for dinner when it was time.

That night, while he tried to sleep, it was terrifying. All around, he felt like he was being suffocated. No one else was in the room, but he knew…outside, there were people all around, surrounding him…Will yearned for them to go away, for it all to disappear. The sense of liberation he had lived with his whole life was gone. He kept his eyes shut, but wasn't able to block out the sound of a million footsteps that he knew would be going back and forth on the sidewalk outside the Institute. It was a pressing, heavy feeling, knowing that he was in such a crowded place. He found himself constantly on edge and unable to relax, preoccupied with an emotion he had never known before—homesickness.

Will felt his throat hurting, his eyes stinging. He wanted to be in his own bed, in his own room. Would he ever get to feel the freedom of running through an endless field that had grass up to his waist? Would he ever get to see a sky as blue as cornflowers again? Or mountains so high they seemed to reach the heavens? He hated London. There was nothing natural about it; it was all industry and mechanics…humans leaving their disgusting mark on a world that was so beautiful…

* * *

"_Home, the spot of earth so supremely blest,_

_A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest."_

_- Robert Montgomery_

* * *

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

"Will!" cried a voice outside.

Charlotte hurried to the door, surprised. She listened for a moment to the noise outside.

"William Herondale!"

Charlotte looked down. The parents. She opened the door and saw three people there: a man, a woman, and a young girl in between them.

"Our son is here," the man said. "Please let us come in."

"You are the Herondales, are you not?" Charlotte asked.

The man, Mr. Herondale, nodded. Charlotte knew about him. He was the man who left the Nephilim behind to marry a Welsh mundane, moving to Wales so they wouldn't be bothered by anyone. Charlotte looked at his wife. She was a pretty woman, who appeared to have a gentle and caring disposition. Finally, Charlotte looked at the child, who could only be their daughter and Will's sister. She had the same raven black hair and beautiful blue eyes. The whole family would have been picturesque, Charlotte thought, if only Will was included in the picture.

"No," she said. "I'm sorry, but he cannot—"

"Will!" Mrs. Herondale screamed, startling Charlotte into silence. "Will, my _fach_, please come down!" The desperation in her voice made Charlotte feel guilty for causing the family so much pain.

Mrs. Herondale turned to Charlotte, her face imploring. "Please, just—just let us speak to him, only for a moment." Her voice shook.

This was a group of people determined to take back their son, Charlotte realized. They would do anything to get him back. If she gave them consent to talk to him, who knows what would happen? Would they persuade him to leave and rejoin them? They had no right, and she herself would be in serious trouble if she allowed them to take him.

"We know we have no claim over him," Mr. Herondale said sadly. "All we want… is see him one more time."

Charlotte wavered. "I shall see what can be done," she said. "Excuse me." She shut the door and ran up to Will's room.

"Will?" She opened the door and found it empty. "Will? Are you here?" She heard a slight noise. "Where are you?"

Charlotte looked around. There was no place here to hide, except the closet, which was open, and—under the bed. She lifted the coverlet and found him curled up with his hands over his ears, eyes tightly closed.

"Will," she started. "Come out of there, Will."

Slowly, hesitantly, he crawled out. He sat on the bed.

"Your parents and sister are here," Charlotte told him. "They wish to speak to you."

Will didn't react, only stared down at his hands, which were bloody, Charlotte saw with some shock. He must have been biting down on them.

"Won't you at least go down to see them?" she asked.

"I don't want to," Will said.

"Only for a short talk. A few seconds, if you really don't want to," Charlotte tried again.

Will shook his head.

"You must!" Charlotte said.

"Who's making me?" Will said, a touch of anger in his voice.

"Will, please go downstairs; they want to see you so terribly," Charlotte begged.

"I don't," Will repeated.

The bluntness of his words weighed on Charlotte's heart. He couldn't possibly not care about them anymore. What could she say that would make him go see his family for one final time?

"Will, you'll never be able to see them again if you don't," Charlotte said. "_Do you understand what I am saying?_ This is the last chance you have to say something to them. They're your family, Will," Charlotte said softly when Will still didn't move. "That must mean something to you, I know it does."

"Yes," Will said quietly. "It does. It means everything." He faced Charlotte and looked at her straight on. "I'm not going to see them, Charlotte. I won't do it."

Charlotte returned his gaze, helplessly. "Will, please…your mother, your father, your sister…all they want is to say goodbye. Then you'll be rid of them, I promise you. Just go downstairs and say…whatever it is you want to be your parting words to them. Please. This will be the last time you'll ever get to see them."

"I know," Will said. "You said that already, as I have said my answer. I'm not going down there. I can't. I won't."

"Will—"

But he averted his eyes and looked away. The conversation was clearly over.

_I can't. I won't. _

_What could have happened to cause this?_ Charlotte wondered. She stood up. "Very well. If you change you mind in the next two minutes, I'm sure they'll still be here."

She went back downstairs and waited at the closed door, dreading what she was about to do. It was best to do it quickly and get it over with. With a flourish, she opened the door again.

"I'm very sorry, but Will does not want to come down at the moment, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Mr. and Mrs. Herondale's faces fell. "No," Mr. Herondale said. "If he won't come down, then we'll have to come up."

Charlotte swiftly closed the door so only her face was exposed. "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to do that. If your son does not wish to come down, then that is that. There isn't anything that can be done."

The husband and wife looked at each other. "Please—" Mrs. Herondale said.

"I'm very truly sorry," Charlotte said, meaning it. "Believe me when I say…I did everything I could to convince him to speak with you, and if the Law allowed it…I would let you see your son. Now please…if you would kindly leave the Institute."

"Will!" Mrs. Herondale screamed again, tears in her eyes. "Will, please, _please_ come down!"

"Please leave now," Charlotte said, feeling as though the words were being dragged out of her. "You cannot be here."

"No, no, please," Mrs. Herondale cried frantically, taking a step forward. "Please, don't send us away, please, I beg of you—"

"I must," Charlotte said, moving back to close the door.

"_Duw, Duw, os gwelwch yn dda!_" Mrs. Herondale sobbed.

Charlotte shut the door and locked it. She slid to the ground and sat down, exhausted. After a brief moment, she went back to Will's room, thinking that he might want company after such an event.

He was on the ground. Charlotte knelt down next to him. "Will?"

The boy bit his lip, blood on his chin and shirt. He looked so pitiful, Charlotte took his hand. It lay on hers, limp. Will raised his face to her. "Charlotte, you'll tell me, won't you? You'll tell me if anything happens to them?"

"Will, I can't—"

"I know the Law," Will interrupted. "I just want to know if they live. Charlotte, please…"

It was such an odd thing for him to say, Charlotte thought.

"Yes," she said. "I promise."

* * *

**A/N: Do you think I use too much Welsh? I put it in mostly because I just like having it there, but I'm starting to wonder if it's just annoying. I'm not bilingual, so I don't know how often people use each language when around people who just speak one. Jem says kinda a lot in Chinese in CP, even though no one else speaks it...**

** On another note, this story is now the most read out of my fanfictions, but still only has ten reviews. There have been 729 hits and 320 visitors...so only 1/32 people review :( Please, please, please, review! It doesn't even take a minute. I hate to be that person who is just begging for reviews, but I really want your feedback. Thanks. **

**Translations - **

**fach / little one**

**Duw / God**

**os gwelwch yn dda / please **


	7. Beauty and the Beast

**A/N: Sorry I really suck at describing hairstyles. If you want to see a picture of the hairstyle Cecily's wearing, I have the link on my profile. It's in the top right corner. No translations for this chapter, because it's written into the chapter.**

**I'm also sort of leaving for a five week long trip tonight, so...sorry...you'll have to wait a while for another update! I'm really sorry! **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

The room was decorated brightly. Holly and garlands were strung up everywhere, a handsome Christmas tree next to a roaring fire. People were still arriving, covered in shawls and overcoats, snow lightly dusting their shoulders. Sophie and Cyril ran about, taking clothes to be put away and serving refreshments, along with several other servants (some of the members of the Clave were lending theirs).

"Quite a turn out," Will muttered, sidling up to Jem, a glass of champagne in his gloved hand.

"What are you talking about?" Jem laughed. "Don't act so surprised; this is the same amount of people who come every year. Minus Benedict, obviously." He had not been invited, of course.

Will snorted and drank. "Yes, I see the miserable old man still managed to infect the party, though. Saw Gabriel slide his nose in not too long ago. There he is. I don't understand why he was allowed to come in the first place." Will tipped his glass slightly towards the staircase, where Gabriel was speaking to another person.

"Gabriel isn't at fault for anything but loyalty, Will," Jem said slowly. "He wasn't a part of anything his father planned."

Will shrugged, his dark eyes still eyeing Gabriel with intense disgust.

"Where are Tessa and your sister?" Jem asked.

"No idea. Come on." Will drained his glass and put it on a passing servant's tray and strode over to Gabriel, Jem following reluctantly behind. "Well, well, Lightwood. I've got to give you some credit for showing up even after what's gone down. Surely a public humiliation by the Institute would be enough to scare any man away from attending the Christmas party, but no. You haven't been deterred. How admirable of your character." He gave Gabriel a patronizing grin.

Gabriel scowled at him. "Don't you dare talk to me in such a condescending manner, Herondale."

"Certainly," Will replied immediately. "That is, if you stop giving me reason to do so."

"What?" Gabriel snarled.

"You might want to start with getting rid of the hair pomade, for one thing," Will continued. "It absolutely reeks, although if you were wishing for that rather drab hair of yours to stand out, it certainly does the job."

"You—"

"Good evening, boys," said a girl's voice.

"My God," Jem said, turning around and taking in Tessa and Cecily standing next to each other, both in their finest and most festive outfits. Jem gave a slight bow. "You two are absolutely exquisite tonight."

"Thank you, Jem," Tessa said warmly. She had on a lavender gown with light silver curling along the skirt and sleeves, brown hair curled and twisted into tight a bun with purple ribbon at the nape of her neck.

"_Ie, diolch_," Cecily agreed. She donned a dark red dress with a gold rose damask pattern. Her hair was curled as well, but, as she was younger, wore it loosely. The curls were pinned at the middle of her head and descending, with two bands going over the top of her hair.

"Remember what that means?" Will asked.

"'Yes, thank you', isn't it?" Tessa asked. Now that Cecily, who spoke to Will in Welsh from time to time, was living with them, the others in the Institute had learned to pick up a few simple phrases of the language.

"That's right," Cecily smiled. Then she noticed Gabriel. "I don't believe we've met before," she said.

The girl waited for a response, but Gabriel seemed to be struggling with his words, a slightly blank expression on his face. He couldn't take his gaze off of Cecily. Will narrowed his eyes.

"Cecily, this is Gabriel Lightwood." Will paused for a moment and then added: "Resident mascot of the London Institute."

"Oh. It is nice to meet you, Mr. Lightwood." Cecily looked as if she were about to raise her hand, but Will shot Jem a warning, which Jem interpreted as _If that scumbag so much as touches her, I'll kill him._ Jem clapped his hands once together and took both Cecily and Tessa's arms. Hand kissing was going to be out of the question tonight for Gabriel.

"How's that for introductions?" he asked, forcing cheerfulness. "Ladies, why don't I get you some drinks? I hear the mulled wine is better than it's ever been." Jem led them away into the crowd. Gabriel craned his neck watching them leave.

Will drew back his fist and brought it back on Gabriel's face, knocking him sideways. Will was livid. "Stop leering after my sister like she's a good-for-nothing whore," he growled. "You're one of the last people I'd ever let her associate herself with. You stay away from her. If I catch you staring after her like a drunk bastard one more time you'll regret it." With that, he stalked away to the others.

"Will, what's wrong?" Cecily asked when he arrived, taking in her brother's glinting eyes and distracted state. "You look furious."

"Nothing," he insisted.

"Oh, why did you call Mr. Lightwood the mascot of the Institute? That's not exactly the nicest thing to say to something. Where is he, anyway? I hardly got to speak to him at all." She looked around.

"Never mind him," Will said. "He's not worth troubling yourself with."

"Would he possibly be the son of…oh, what was his name? Benedict Lightwood, that's right. He must be."

"Yes, he is," Jem said. "He's brothers with Gideon."

"Gideon's wonderful," Cecily said. "The same cannot be said for his brother?" she asked hesitantly, looking from Tessa to Will. She already knew about the scandal that had gone down with Benedict, but was not aware that Gabriel had chosen to be loyal to his father.

"No, it can't," Will said angrily. "He's just a smarmy brat who sided with his demon-pox infected arse of a father."

Cecily's mouth fell open. "He—he defended his father?" She frowned.

"Now you see," Will said. "Obnoxious prick, that's all he is."

Through all this, Jem had been scanning the crowd for Gabriel, having seen the small commotion earlier that night. Locating him, Jem grabbed Will by the elbow and dragged him away from the group. "You wouldn't have happened to have something to do with that, would you?" Jem nodded across the room towards Gabriel, who had stood up and was now sporting a brilliant purple jaw.

"What do you think?" Will hissed. "You saw how he was staring after Cecily, like some snake. No way was I going to let him get away with that."

Jem sighed. "Try to remember where we are, Will. Can you please not go spreading rumors about Gabriel—"

"You know they aren't rumors, Jem," Will said.

"Just tone it down a bit. Don't worry about Cecily. Since she knows about what he did now, I don't think she'll be interested. She's smart, and quite frankly, has more sense than you sometimes."

"Ha! As if that were possible," Will said, though he was considerably more relaxed now.


	8. Storm

**A/N: Long author's note here. First, I'm back! Thanks for waiting, but I was visiting my grandparents for a while (obviously), and I didn't want to go making new documents on their rather frustrating computer.**

**In the very first chapter of this fiction, I wrote that Will had never seen Cecily scared before. Well, call me a terrible author, but I'm going to go completely against that and make Cecily scared in **_**this**_** chapter. I swear, I had forgotten I had written that at all and if I remembered, I would have written this chapter differently, but now that I have, I don't want to go changing it around, and I think you guys will still like it, despite the glaring continuity error. Think of it like this-Will has never seen Cecily scared when she was older. In this chapter, she is quite young, and speaking of which, I'm going to now start telling you Will and Cecily's ages (Ella's as well, if she is featured, as she is in this one) if it's not set when TID actually happens, so the reading makes a little more sense. So. Will is eight, Cecily is five, and Ella is ten.**

**Oh, and as of this chapter, I'll be going back and forth between the time era. Meaning, since this chapter takes place before the ID books, the next one will be during the ID books, and the one after that will be from before. I've gotten a few requests for some chapters when Will and Cecily are kids, so this will make a nice even split.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

"And...there's Orion's belt," Ella said, pointing skyward at the three twinkling stars that were lined up perfectly.

She, Will, and Cecily were stretched out on the grass in front of the house, staring up at the dark pelt of sky. The serenity was only broken occasionally by the sound of Ella pointing out constellations and birds singing their nighttime goodbyes to each other.

Next to Will, Cecily yawned. Ella propped herself up on an elbow and looked at her sister. "Sleepy yet, little Snow?" That was Ella's nickname for Cecily, coming from what Ella thought was Cecily's uncanny similarities to the fairy tale character: black hair, pale skin, and a sweet and innocent countenance.

Cecily rubbed her eyes in defiance. "Not yet. You can't make me go to bed, either, William," she said, suddenly defiant, "so don't even try."

"I don't understand why you think Cecily's such a lamb," Will said to Ella. "Don't you hear this? I _am_ older than her."

Ella giggled. "What are you talking about? Cecily's an angel. You two just like creating trouble because you're the youngest."

It was true. Cecily adored Ella, but she and Will were always sparring, though only verbally. Will would have liked to have a brother so they could have what he thought was an "actual fight" and throw punches and the like, but Will was well aware that the moment he hit Cecily, he was a dead boy. Not that he wanted to hurt her, but sometimes she infuriated him to no end, and when that happened...sometimes the insults weren't enough, especially with a girl like Cecily. She had nerves of steel, nothing seemed to touch her. A nice slap though, would. Oh, how nice it would have been to have a brother, Will sometimes thought wistfully.

"I think I see Hercules," Ella said. "That cloud is covering him up. Wait for it to pass."

"Mm, I don't think we'll get to see him tonight, Ella," Will said after a second. "It's all cloudy now."

Sure enough, heavy clouds were rolling in now, obscuring the stars and moon. Ella sat up, frowning. "Looks like rain," she said. "Hurry! Let's get inside."

The three children ran back to the house, where their mother already had the door opened. They raced in, just a few feet in front of the gust of wind that had started up.

It was too early to sleep yet, so the family gathered in the library. A fire had been laid out and their father was seated in one of the chairs by the couch reading the paper.

"Papa!" Cecily squealed. She ran towards him and clambered into his lap. He laughed. Will found his own chair across from his father, their mother lowering herself into the couch.

"Anything interesting in the paper, father?" Ella questioned, who was on her knees in front of the fire.

"Not much," their father replied and he turned the page. "The Americans are keeping on with reconstruction—"

"Still?" Will interrupted, incredulous. "The war's been over forever, and those Yankees are never take long to get back into that patriotic spirit everyone talks about. One would think that it would they'd be all right now."

Edmund eyed his son seriously. "Don't underestimate the effects of war, William. And did you forget about the assassination? A country can't exactly rebuild itself when they have no leader. Imagine the chaos that would come if Queen Victoria were shot in the head. Awful thing to have happened..." Edmund scanned the page and continued with the report. "Some nasty weather in Dover, and in Cardiff too."

"It won't reach all the way up here, though, will it?" their mother asked.

In reply, the family heard a steady tattoo of rain on the roof. Will made his way to the window and peered out.

"It looks like its coming down hard," he said. "All the trees are bent over..." Will stood there for a little longer and went back to his seat. "I'm glad I'm not out there."

"I love the rain," Ella said. "It makes the home feel so cozy. Mother, may I play?"

Their mother nodded.

Ella went and uncovered the piano that stood in the corner. Lifting the lid, she asked, "What would you like to hear, Will?"

"That new piece you've been working on," Will said slyly. "Something by Mozart."

"Oh Will, you monster," Ella said. "You know I can't play it that well yet."

But she did anyway, to appease her brother. Midway through, a flash of lightning illuminated the outside courtyard, making Ella start and stop playing. She got up from the bench and looked outside, just as there was a rumble of thunder.

"It's much harder than I thought," she mused. "There hasn't been a thunderstorm in a while, has there?"

The rest of the family joined her. Lightning and thunder continued, along with the lashing rain. Will thought briefly about how fun it would be to stand out in the open and get drenched, but his mother interrupted his thoughts.

"Best sleep through it, darling," she was saying to Cecily, who was pulling on their mother's skirt nervously. "It's about time for you anyway." She bent down and picked Cecily up.

Will turned to his sister, a wicked grin on his face. "You're not scared, are you Cecily?" He laughed as Cecily made a face at him and stuck her tongue out.

"Hush, you," their mother said, mussing his hair roughly. "You don't stay down here for too long either, young man. You need to be ready for your lesson tomorrow morning. Ten minutes more. Ella, see that he goes to bed."

Ella stood up straight. "Yes, ma'am."

Their mother sighed and then she walked over to her husband. "Give your papa a kiss," she instructed Cecily. Cecily did so and then they disappeared upstairs.

True to her word, Ella also managed to corral her brother up to his room ten minutes later. "Good night, Will," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well."

"You too," Will said.

He was very comfortable indeed, all wrapped up in his blankets. Ella did a wonderful job of tucking him in, and the hot water bottles that their mother provided had made the bed warm even before he got in. With a cup of tea and a book, Will felt it was a perfect way to end the day, even if his outward appearance (scowling and complaining all the while) didn't express it.

It was dark when he realized he had woken up. Will looked around, slightly disoriented. His book was on the table, the lamp off. Not how he had remembered the scene, but his mother must have been there. He pulled aside the curtain of his window a few inches to allow enough light in to read the clock, which told him it was two hours past midnight.

At that point, he became aware of the dryness of his mouth. The teacup was empty, as was his water jug. He must have forgotten to refill it, which meant he'd have to go to the kitchen and do it there. Groaning, Will groggily sat himself up, pulled on his dressing gown, and went to the hall, water jug in hand.

Not expecting the light in the hall, he stumbled slightly. Will set down the jug and saw that the source was Cecily's room. He opened the door as quietly as he could. From the half centimeter he allowed himself, all he could make out was Cecily's black hair leaning on something white and somewhat poofy. He opened the door fully and stepped inside to see his two sisters, Ella's nightgown being what he had thought to be the poofy object. Cecily was asleep against Ella, her body turned slightly inward toward her sister. Ella was sleeping as well, sitting up right. Her eyes fluttered open when Will got close to take the lamp.

"Will, what are you doing the here?" she whispered.

"I could ask you the same."

Ella grimaced and rubbed her neck. "I saw her light was still on when I came up. She was too scared and Mother had already gone to bed, so I stayed with her until she fell asleep. I guess I did as well." She eyed Will. "What about you?"

"I needed more water," Will replied.

Ella rolled her eyes and reached to the side, pouring a glass for him, careful not to disturb Cecily. "Where's the jug?"

Will took his drink before replying, "I left it in the hall."

His sister let out her breath. "Well, go pick it up," she ordered. "You don't want anyone tripping over it."

_Always the sensible one_, Will thought as he did the chore.

"How long did it take for her to sleep?" asked Will when he had returned.

Ella shrugged. "A few hours, perhaps? I'm not sure. God, my neck hurts." She rubbed it again. "Do me a favor, Will, and take my place. I have to lie down properly."

"What?" Will hissed. "Must I?"

"She's already asleep," Ella retorted. "Just in case she wakes up." She carefully started to extract herself from Cecily, but not carefully enough. Cecily stirred and looked around. Will shot Ella a look of exasperation, which she returned with a stern expression.

"Where are you going?" Cecily said, clinging to Ella's dress.

"Ella's neck hurts, Snow," Ella said, gently freeing herself from Cecily's grasp. "Will's going to stay here with you." She gave Will an expectant glance and he sighed, making his way to the bed. Ella kissed Cecily's forehead and smoothed down her hair. "You'll be fine."

Cecily gave the window a wary look as Ella closed the door again. She pulled the covers up tighter against her chin and didn't say anything. Will felt around and managed to put his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. With his other, he found her hand and took it in his. Her fingers curled around his, and Will thought she must have been grateful to hold on to something. "You heard her," he said, trying sound comforting. "You're safe."

Cecily still didn't say anything, just looked around the room with wide eyes. A flash of lightning illuminated the room briefly, follows by a loud roar of thunder. Cecily gave a cry and shut her eyes tightly, covering her ears as she turned her face into Will's shirt.

"Shh..." Will said, rocking her slightly. "You're all right..."

He could feel Cecily gripping his shirt so hard she was shaking. "It's all right," he repeated as another flash of lightning passed. "It'll be gone soon."

She didn't reply, only kept her face hidden and her hand in Will's.

* * *

**A/N: I did absolutely no research on any constellations whatsoever, and I'm aware that certain ones can't be seen during certain seasons and all that…just call it artistic license if you notice something that's astronomically inaccurate ;)**


	9. Boiling Point

**A/N: This chapter was originally around 1,300 words, and then I wrote some more to make it around 1,800. The interaction between Will and Cecily wasn't long enough, so I decided to flesh it out. **

**Personally, I have mixed feelings about this chapter. I think the first half is pretty choppy (mostly because I think I changed up my writing a style a bit for that particular section), but once it gets into the big scene, it's not bad. I guess you readers will be the judge of that. **

* * *

"Settling in?"

Cecily turned without getting up and saw Will leaning against the door.

It was strange, seeing her brother again. His face looked so different but so familiar at the same time. Cecily wondered if he felt the same way, if it was odd to see her as a young woman instead of as only a girl.

Cecily knew after five years, she should be overjoyed that she was finally reunited with her brother, but...she couldn't forget the sleepless nights of tossing and turning, the long hours of weeping, and what seemed like the eternal hell of solitude and loneliness. She loathed Will for it.

A week had gone by since she had arrived at the Institute, and he had yet to make even a passing reference to what he had done. Cecily wished that he would acknowledge it, maybe offer some sort of explanation. But so far she had been disappointed, his avoidance of the subject feeding the resentment she felt toward Will. He had shown no interest whatsoever in her well being during that time.

Her first reaction to seeing him was to put up her shields. She didn't want to show any sign of what she was feeling at the moment. The last thing Cecily wanted was for Will to start filling in the older brother role again. She wasn't sure she was ready for that yet. He was still a stranger to her. So instead she wore a carefully guarded mask of neutrality and indifference. Time would reveal when she was to make her mind known.

"More or less," Cecily smoothly replied. She had hung up her traveling cloak, stowed away the rest of her belongings, and changed into a dress of pink that made her dark blue eyes stand out even more than they normally did.

Silence fell between them, another strange feeling for Cecily. There had never been a moment where they weren't firing off insults or exchanging some sort of word—whether the words were friendly or hostile varied day to day. Desperate to fill the gap, Cecily said, "This place is rather drab, isn't it?" It was the first thing that came to her head.

"It can be dreary," Will agreed, "but you'll get used to it."

"That's what everyone says," Cecily muttered under her breath. It was what her father had told her after Will had gone, and he had been wrong. She had never been able to get accustomed to being the only child in the house, with no one else to talk to or fight with or play with.

"I'm going down," Will said. "Do you want to come with me?"

"No."

Cecily didn't want to be near her brother at all at the moment; she couldn't stand it. Her reply was harsher than she had intended, and for a moment she was worried she had shown too much, but her brother just stood there, arms crossed.

"I doubt you'll find the way yourself," Will said. "It would be better if you didn't go alone."

Cecily suddenly stood up, furious, forgetting herself. "You must doubt a lot of things, William. You must have doubted that no one would miss you when you ran away for this place. You must have doubted that we would all forget about you and go on with our normal lives. You must have doubted that your sister would spend some nights awake the whole time, just praying for some answer as to why her big brother would leave the family right after—" Cecily broke off and turned her face away. Mentioning Ella wouldn't be a good idea.

"Right after what?" Cecily heard Will ask.

The nerve he had.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Cecily said, incensed. Keeping her face hidden, she pushed past Will and into the hall.

A week's time at being at the Institute was enough to give Cecily at least a basic map of the building, fortunately, despite her brother's other thoughts. She was able to find her way to the most frequented rooms now, which was all she really needed for the time being. After the scene in her room, she was grateful for her ability to pick up quickly on the layout of the Institute so she wouldn't need to require on her brother's assistance any longer. Yes, she could have asked anyone else, but she wasn't so comfortable with anyone else to the point where she'd be willing to be with just them and no one else. They were friendly to her and she was friendly back, but…she was still wary of them. She always was of new people and would be for a long time.

"Good evening," Cecily said when she arrived, taking a seat next to Tessa. Jem was on Tessa's side, Charlotte on the other side of the table.

"Oh, hello," Tessa said brightly.

"It's nice to see you again," Cecily said. "You all but disappeared after lunch."

"She was in the library," Jem supplied. "Weren't you, Tessa?"

Tessa turned red. "All right, I was."

"Hm." Cecily looked at her with some interest. "My brother never mentioned that you enjoyed reading. You're the first girl I've known other than those in my family to have that in common with me."

"Is that so?" Charlotte said with some surprise. Cecily nodded in response.

"Well, same with me," Tessa said with a smile, "but truthfully, I wasn't really expecting it to be any different."

"Yes, my brother always has his nose buried in a book, doesn't he?"

"What sorts of books do you read?" Tessa wondered.

"Novels, of course," Cecily said. "I do like plays, too. I've been hoping to reread some of Shakespeare soon."

"What are your favorites?"

"_The Tempest, Macbeth, Hamlet…A Midsummer Night's Dream_ is definitely the one I enjoyed the most, though. As for novels, I quite like the Brontë sisters. I think everything they wrote is amazing. Although, my absolute favorite author would have to be Jane Austen. I mean, _Pride and Prejudice_, _Sense and Sensibility_, _Mansfield Park_, _Emma_, _Northanger Abbey…_they're all just so brilliant.

"You're very well read," Jem complimented, sounding impressed. "Same as Will."

Cecily couldn't think of anything to reply, so she just smiled politely instead.

"Come on, Cecily, say something," said Will's voice. Cecily looked over to him and narrowed her eyes as he approached the table and sat directly across from her. "You're not usually this shy."

Cecily knew he was teasing her, but she had already taken the bait once that evening. Determined not to give her brother the upper hand, she said sweetly, "I'm just saving all my breath for the things I want to say to you. We do have five years' worth of conversation to catch up on, after all. _Dear brother_." She have him a hard glare.

If Will was disturbed, he didn't show it. Charlotte cleared her throat nervously. "I think it's about time for the entree, don't you all?" A loud chatter of agreement rose, and then Bridget rolled out the serving tray.

Cecily took her helping wordlessly. The reappearance of Will had wiped everything she had just talked about clean from her mind, to be replaced with a flare of anger. _Just ignore it. Don't want to make a scene._ She could feel Charlotte anxiously looking at her, but ignored it. After taking a sip of her drink, she put on her most winning smile and brought her head up to address something else she had been thinking about lately.

"Now, just to make the conversation a bit more lively here, I'd like to ask something. When will I start my training?" Besides Will, it was the biggest thing on her mind at the moment. She wanted to start as soon as possible.

Charlotte looked surprised. "You're very eager, aren't you? Well..."

"At no point in time will you be doing that," Will started. "I forbid it."

"I wasn't asking you!" Cecily shot back. "And besides…" She looked Will up and down before going on in a calmer tone, "You have no authority over me."

Will raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "Did you really just say that?"

Cecily ignored him. "Charlotte?"

"Um...well..." She was clearly uncomfortable, and Cecily was sorry for making her so, but she couldn't help it.

"I say, Cecily, what'd you tell Mother and Father to let you go?" Will suddenly wondered.

"That's none of your business," Cecily said tightly. She then became aware that her hands were clenched and put them in her lap so no one else would see them.

"Yes, it is," Will said.

"No, it is _not. _Charlotte?" Cecily repeated.

"I suppose we could start tomorrow," she said hesitantly. "Assuming we get you some gear that fits you. In case not, it might be a few days."

"Are you serious?" Will was incredulous, turned towards Charlotte.

"I—"

She seemed to be faltering under Will's look.

"Don't worry about my brother," Cecily said, trying to sound soothing. "You needn't listen to him."

"_Cecily_," Will said in a deadly voice.

"_Yes_?" She glared at him for a moment but he didn't say anything more. Cecily returned her gaze to Charlotte. "Tomorrow sounds fine. Or, if, like you said, it needs to wait just a bit longer, I won't mind that either. As long as we can begin soon."

"All right, I'll—"

"I said, _no_," Will cut in.

"Shut up!" Cecily shouted suddenly. That was it. It was time to crack. Cecily stood, and Will did too. They faced across the table from each other. The others were all quiet, either too scared to interfere, or too interested in what was about to follow. "I'm not listening to anything you have to say! It means nothing to me! Nothing!"

"Have you gone mad?" Will said, struggling not to yell. "I'm your—"

"No, you are not!" Cecily screamed, bitterness and pain welling up in her heart. "You are _not_ my brother! A brother doesn't just take off and leave home right when everyone needs him most! You have absolutely no idea what that did to us, what it did to me—" Cecily stopped herself. The memories were too painful to think about. Rage was making her shake, a thousand other feelings coursing through her. She leaned over and put her hands on the table, staring downward, breathing hard. The pent up emotions were finally released, after five years of containment.

After a moment, she felt herself begin to quiet down inside. The anger was being succeeded with something else. "You just—you didn't care at all," Cecily whispered. "Never bothered to write, never tried to make any sort of contact. And you still don't. You haven't brought it up even once, like it was nothing important. You've been acting like it never even happened. It makes me feel so…meaningless."

Will didn't say anything. He just stared at her. Without a word, Cecily turned, left the chamber, and retreated to her room. There, she fell on her bed and tried to compose herself, tried keep herself from crying. But she just couldn't.

* * *

"_That's the thing about pain…it demands to be felt."_

- John Green, _The Fault in Our Stars_

* * *

Back in the dining room, Will was also leaving. At the door, he caught Jem looking at him with a peculiar expression on his face. It said, _You haven't told her, have you?_

Will shook his head slightly and his focus drew to Tessa. She seemed to understand and gave him a tiny nod that seemed to have a both little bit of sympathy and a little bit of encouragement.

He put on his coat and went outside.

* * *

**A/N: Aww, poor Will. He did try to write! But of course, Cecily doesn't know that.**

**Don't you think that quote is just perfect? I thought I was so lucky just to have remembered it :)**

**Please excuse me if there are repeated phrases and stuff like that. I wrote this over the course of several weeks, so I forgot what words I used, though I think I patched up the worst of it during editing. Please review!**


	10. In the Blue

**A/N: This chapter was inspired by the chapter "Where Violets Grow" in the book **_**By the Shores of Silver Lake **_**by Laura Ingalls Wilder. **

**Ages - Will is eight, Cecily is five, and Ella is ten.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

A young girl wearing a green dress walked along the edge of the forested pond. Every so often she'd pick up a small rock and throw it into the water, giggling at the plunking sound it made when it dropped. She turned from her activity when she heard her sister's voice calling to her from a little ways away.

"Come away from the water, Cecily!" Ella shouted. "There are too many mosquitoes there. You'll get bitten."

"Too late," Will said, pointing at a red mark on Cecily's arm.

"Don't scratch," Ella admonished. "Here. This will make it feel better." She took out a small container filled with a salve that smelled of mint. She rubbed a little on the bite and then replaced the container.

It was April, but very hot. The children had taken refuge in the wood not long before noon, lounging under the shade of the trees. Will lay sprawled in the grass, pulling up fistfuls absently and scattering them on his waistcoat. Ella sat against a tree trunk, doing her studying like a proper pupil. Cecily _had_ been sleeping, but as soon as she woke and spotted the water, she had made straight for it.

"I'm bored," Will suggested, rolling over. "Let's play hide and seek."

"All right then," Ella agreed. "Do you remember how to play, Cecily?"

"Mm..." Cecily thought and then nodded.

Ella smiled. "Good. Stay in the forest, you understand? Don't go running off. I'll count to sixty," she said, addressing both of her siblings. "Ready?" Both of them nodded. Ella turned to face the trunk, shut her eyes, and started to count. "One...two three...four..."

Will sprinted out of the clearing and ran to the outer limits of the forest. He could still here Ella ("Thirty-two...thirty-three..."). Panting, he looked around. The leaf coverage was rather good here, if he could get elevated. He grabbed on a branch and clambered up, pushing other branches aside until he decided he thought it was high enough. He judged himself to be about only a third of the way up the tree, but it was fine. Will tucked in all his clothing and lay flat on the branch, arms coiled around the bottom, making sure they and his face were obscured by the foliage.

Not long after, he heard Ella shout sixty and knew she'd be coming after him soon. Cecily would be found before him, though, Will thought. After all, how well could a five-year-old hide?

He couldn't hear anything, only the birds, so Will guessed that Ella had started the direction opposite of him first. He carefully made a viewing hole in the leaves to watch the ground below him.

After a while, there was the sound of sticks snapping underfoot, and Will realized that Ella was nearby. He noiselessly sealed up the hole and lay quietly, listening hard.

Will heard Ella check under felled tree trunks and look in some bushes. Through the limited amount of space that remained, Will peered down and saw that Ella was by herself. So either Cecily had been left at the base or she hadn't been found yet. Ella stood in the middle of the area and looked around, hands on her hips. Then she looked upward at the trees. Will moved his head to the side, hoping she hadn't detected his presence...

"Are you up there, Will?"

He cursed silently and didn't reply.

"Don't make me come up there," Ella said playfully. "I can climb just as well as you, don't forget."

Will still didn't say anything.

"All right then," Ella said. She picked up her skirts and begin to make her way up.

"Fine, you found me!" Will hurriedly admitted. Ella looked up with some surprise and then grinned, dropping down.

"I saw your footprints," Ella said, pointing at the marks in the stirred up leaves and the scrapes of dirt on the trunk as Will came down, scowling.

"Well, I hid better than Cecily," he retorted.

"Actually, you didn't," Ella said. "I haven't found her yet."

Will's mouth fell open. "What? That's impossible. You found her in two minutes when we played last time in the house."

Ella shrugged. "Maybe she learned her lesson. You go that way and I'll look around here. Search in circles until we meet back at the clearing."

Will nodded and started off. He didn't bother checking high places, inspecting things on ground level primarily. Bushes would be the most obvious place, Will thought, but after ten minutes, he still hadn't sought her out. Frowning, Will stopped where he was and paused in his hunt.

"Where would I hide if I were a five-year-old girl?" he said out loud, scratching his head. With no answer, he continued onward.

At last he made it back to the clearing. He had thought maybe Cecily would be there, in the open by accident or Ella had found her, but he was first there. Will brushed off a rock and sat down, waiting.

Ella didn't reappear for a long time and she returned looking disheveled and frantic, her hair escaping the ribbon she had pulled it back with earlier. When she saw Will by himself, her face fell. "You didn't find her?"

"No," Will said, standing up. "You didn't either?"

Ella shook her head. "I looked everywhere; there's no sight of her."

Will felt a sense of dread. "Do you think she went back to the house?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ella cried desperately.

"Well, unless you actually went back there-"

Ella gave her brother a horrified look. "I can't do that!" she exclaimed. "Mother would ask what I was doing, and then I'd have to tell her I lost our sister! She'd be furious!"

"It's not completely your fault," Will pointed out. "I wasn't looking out for her enough either."

"I'm the oldest, though," Ella groaned. "It's my responsibility."

"They won't be expecting us for a while yet," Will said, "and she can't have gone far. Let's spread out again and keep looking. Remind me what she has on again?"

"A green dress and white hair ribbons," Ella said. "If one of us finds her, we come back here and wait for the other one." As soon as she received Will's affirmative nod, she turned and dashed out of sight.

Will himself ran into the trees when she was gone, ripping aside branches and dodging others. "Cecily!" he shouted. "You win! Come out now!" He scanned the landscape, but saw nothing but leaves. Letting out a growl of frustration, he pushed onwards, calling Cecily's name.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, Will continued his search in vain. He kept thinking Cecily would be crouched behind each rock he found, burrowed under each shrub he discovered, but he still found nothing. It was becoming harder to ignore the rising feeling of panic. He had suppressed it to reassure Ella, but now that he was by himself and without Cecily, it wasn't as easy.

"Cecily!" he tried again. "Where are you?" He screamed until he was hoarse and forced to stop. There was no response in the silence that returned. Suddenly weak, Will made himself sit down on the springy forest floor.

_Where is she? _he thought. Agonized, he gripped his hair with his hands, head bowed and eyes closed. Was she hurt, injured? Will got up and went on.

An hour of relentless search, and Will had walked to the edge of the wood. He took a few steps out of it, sweeping his eyes over the yellow field that lay beyond the trees. Patches of flowers were growing tall among the grass, creating the image of what Will thought was a painter's palette. Red, purple, blue...

Blue. Cecily's favorite color. Will thought back to where she had hid last time they played—her room. Under the blankets, but why? Because it was the place in the house she was most familiar with, what seemed the most inviting.

Not wasting another minute, Will ran out into the field towards the first bed of blue flowers. He let out a cry of relief when he saw the top of Cecily's dark head in the middle of the bed.

With legs like water, Will stumbled over to her to see she was fast asleep. He collapsed onto his knees and shook her awake. "_Brawd mawr_..." Cecily mumbled.

"Don't ever do that again!" Will exclaimed, pulling her into an embrace. "You had us worried sick!"

"Do what...?" Cecily asked, still half asleep.

"Look." Will stood Cecily up and pointed to where the trees stopped. "Ella said to stay in the forest, didn't she? _That's _where it ends. Out here—"Will gestured to the field—"isn't part of it. Understand? You have to stay where the trees are."

"I remembered," Cecily said, sounding annoyed. "I felt so tired that I didn't want to play anymore and tried to go home but then I couldn't find it and fell asleep."

"You can't just quit!" Will said, rather agitatedly. "You have to tell us when you're going to go somewhere else."

"All right, all right…" Cecily grumbled.

They went back to the clearing, where Will shouted to the sky, "Ella! Ella, I found her!"

He heard some crashing through the plants and then Ella burst through the greenery. "Oh, thank God!" she said gratefully and hugged Cecily. "Where were you?"

"In the fields. Will already told me off."

"Well…" Ella brushed herself off. "I think that's enough excitement for one day. We should get home."

**A/N: Please, please, please review! It only takes thirty seconds! **

**Translations - **

_**brawd mawr**_** /**** big brother**


	11. Xenophobia

**A/N: Some background if you aren't aware. A long time ago, Cassie answered on Twitter if she always knew Will was going to be Welsh, and she said yes, but especially after she learned about Welsh prejudice in the Victorian era. I couldn't find much information on this subject while writing this, so I don't have much to go on, but still thought it would be a good topic to write about. **

**Xenophobia is the fear of foreigners.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

Cecily and Will stepped out of the carriage. "Thanks very much," Will said, clapping Cyril on the shoulder. "We'll be back within the hour."

They were out in London, searching for a birthday present for Jem. He and Tessa were already preoccupied with helping Charlotte search through some archives that had been ignored for years, so they had no trouble sneaking out.

"I want to see that new writing store," Cecily said. "There's a gorgeous fountain pen there I think he would like."

"All right," Will said. "Where is it?"

Cecily looked around. "Down this street," she said. "It's on the corner."

There it was, a little shop with a few customers inside. It certainly appeared to be new, sporting none of the grimy walls and dusty windows the other stores in the vicinity had accumulated over the years.

Cecily went in first. "Good morning, sir," she said, smiling at the storekeeper, a thin, spindly man. He bowed in return.

"Welcome, welcome. Please, take a look at our wares."

"Thank you." Cecily turned and examined the shelves.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Will asked from over her shoulder.

"It's black with gold banding," Cecily said. "And there's ivory colored decoration all along the body." She let out a breath of frustration. "It's not here. Excuse me," she said, catching the storekeeper's attention. "There was a fountain pen in the display two days ago, black and gold with ivory. Do you know where it's kept?"

The storekeeper rubbed his chin. "Black, gold, and ivory, eh? Got sold off, I think."

Cecily's face fell. "You don't have another one in storage? Not a single one?"

"One minute," the man said. "I might have something else that will interest you." He went behind the counter into a backroom, returning with a thin box. He put it on the counter and opened it for Cecily to inspect.

Sitting in the box was a brown pen, black banding around the middle and three gray streaks along the length of it. Cecily picked up the box, leaving the pen safely nestled among the wrapping paper, and frowned slightly. It looked nothing like the one she had been hoping for, and nowhere near as beautiful.

"Er, Cec..."Will said. There was a clipped sound to his voice, something Cecily knew to be a hint of disapproval. Obviously, her brother agreed that the pen was a bore.

Cecily gave the storekeeper the briefest glance and turned her head to the side a little. _"I wybod. Mae'n erchyll,"_ she whispered.

"I'm sorry?" the storekeeper snapped suspiciously. "What was that?"

"Oh!" Cecily whipped around. "Nothing, just talking to my brother here."

The storekeeper was not deterred. He leaned over the counter, squinting at Cecily. "You were speaking Welsh, weren't you?"

At that, Will spoke up quickly. "No. No, she wasn't." He gave Cecily a warning look.

But Will's automatic reply was as much as a confession. "I don't need my store being invaded with filthy foreigners," the storekeeper said, an ugly expression on his face. "Especially ones from a place like Wales."

Cecily glared at the man. "We're not invading your store, idiot."

"You're invading if I say you are," the storekeeper said. "Get out! Go on!" he added, looking at Will. "Take your dirty sister and never set foot in here again."

Will slammed his hands on the table and leaned over into the man's face so they were almost face-to-face. "My sister isn't dirty," he said through between his teeth.

The storekeeper backed up so fast it was almost funny, pressed up tightly against his cabinets. "Devils, all of you!" he bawled, pointing at the pair of siblings with an accusing but trembling finger. "Get out of my shop before I call the guards on you!"

His shouting had alerted the other customers to Will and Cecily's heritage by now. Cecily looked around and saw the people staring at her with the same look, full of fear, prejudice, and dislike. Many of them put down what they had been looking at and left the store hastily, without a backward glance. Cecily met the gaze of a middle-aged woman, who promptly shuddered, threw Cecily a face of disgust and departed through the door.

The storekeeper's eyes popped out of his head. "There, now! See what you've done? Scared all of my customers away with your witchcraft!"

Will looked around the store and then returned his eyes to the storekeeper. "You've done that yourself!" he spat with contempt.

The storekeeper shook his head frantically and waved his hands towards them, like he was warding off bad spirits. "Stay away! I won't have my shop being infected by you vermin sorts!"

"We aren't the plague!" Cecily retorted. All hopes of making a purchase were lost, clearly. She was just staying around to watch the man get riled up, even though it was having the same effect on her. She hadn't felt this angry in a long time.

"Nothing but good for nothing people there," the storekeeper mumbled. "You might as well be."

Cecily didn't say anything, only glared at him. She exchanged a look with Will, whose face was impassive. Then she looked back at the storekeeper.

"Fine. Hope you've caught it then."

"What?"

"Oh, _mynd I uffern, basdun," _Cecily said, turning to leave. Will stifled a laugh, managing to turn it into a hacking cough.  
"What?" the shopkeeper exclaimed. "What'd you say, you witch? A curse?"

"I said, _myn i uffern, basdun_," Cecily reiterated, with emphasis. "What part of that don't you understand? Oh, I forgot this too." She was still holding the box. "You can keep your damn pen. Good day, sir."

She turned on her heel and slammed the door violently. The moment they had stepped out of the shop, the man locked the door, absolutely aghast. Cecily felt a wave of vindictive pleasure come over her at seeing how much terror she had caused the man.

She walked very quickly back to the carriage, Will several feet behind her. "Cecily, wait!" he called. "You haven't gotten anything—"

"We can do that some other time," she said shortly. "I don't want to anymore."

"Cecily, _wait_," Will repeated, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"What?" she said furiously. Now that her chew toy the storekeeper was gone, she had no one else to take her anger out on except Will.

"I know you're mad, but—"

"Yes, of course I'm mad, _brawd mawr_, why aren't—"

"_Shh! _Are you insane?" Will hissed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cecily demanded, her dark eyes burning. For the first time, Will felt their intensity and understood why people so often gave in to his will: The eyes he was meeting possessed a very penetrating look that held a great amount of intimidation, if the person was pushed to the right place. And Cecily was certainly at that place right now.

"Look: people here, they won't like it if they know—well, where we're from."

"Thanks, I figured that out," Cecily said.

"_Listen_. I'm not kidding around here, understand? You can't just go around blurting Welsh; that's really going to put people on edge. Surely Mother or Father have told you that," Will said.

"No one cares at the Institute," Cecily muttered.

"Of course not," Will said. "They accept us as we are, no matter where we were born. But the people out here, they won't. You have to be careful. They can do a lot worse than badger you until you leave whatever you're doing."

Cecily avoided his eyes, only looking at the ground, still frowning. Resentment and bitterness were written all over her. "It's not fair," she said. "I haven't done anything; there's nothing wrong with me, either. It's not a crime to be Welsh. It's not fair," she said again. "I don't want to erase some part of me just because these people don't like it. I don't want to erase some part of me just to keep them happy."

"You don't have to erase it," Will tried to comfort her. "Just keep it hidden when you're in public."

"That's not much better," Cecily said.

"I know it's not, and I know it's not fair," Will said. "But it's all we can do. The world can't favor everyone. We need to learn to make the best of it."

When she still didn't look more cheerful, Will resorted to a different tactic. "Come on, let's get back. I'll make you some special _caws pobi_ for dinner. The way Mother used to cook it."

Cecily's eyes lit up and she smiled a little bit. "You know how to cook that?"

"I certainly can," Will said stoutly.

"All right," Cecily said. "Just don't burn the Institute down, will you?"

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked it! It was certainly fun to write, showing Cecily's mouth. Hehe. Please review!**

**Translations – **

_**I wybod. Mae'n erchyll **_**/ I know. It's hideous.**

_**Mynd I uffern, basdun **_**/ Go to hell, bastard.**

_**brawd mawr **_**/ big brother**

_**caws pobi **_**/ baked cheese (Welsh term for Welsh rarebit, Welsh dish where a sauce of melted cheese are poured over slices of toast)**


	12. Spill

**A/N: Urgh, I suck at writing dialogue for children. Sorry if Cecily and Will sound too smart. **

**AGES - Cecily is five, Will is eight, and Ella is ten.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

_T__he elephant ate eleven enormous eggs._

"But Ella, that's silly!" Cecily giggled, dipping a fountain pen into a bottle of ink. "El'phants don't eat eggs!"

"Just pretend, all right?" Ella said, getting up from where she had been kneeling next to the desk, writing sentences for Cecily to copy down as her penmanship lesson. "Will, are you almost done?"

"I just started!" Will exclaimed crossly. "Give me a moment."

It was just after noon, when the day was hottest. In order to keep her children cool and out of the blazing summer sun, their mother had declared that from one o'clock to four o'clock, all three would be studying. Cecily, still very young, only had to work on writing and reading. Will had in addition to these, arithmetic, history, and some elementary science courtesy of their father. Ella, as a girl, was required to do cooking, sewing, and had piano lessons. She not only taught Cecily, but also Will, which meant she got to learn about other subjects that she would normally be denied. The feminine arts she was taught by her mother. This made Ella do much running around the house, but she enjoyed it.

"Done." Will blew on the paper and handed it to Ella, then wiped his fingers free of ink that had escaped the confines of his quill.

"You've got big blots everywhere, Will."

He scowled. "It's better than last time."

"True, true," Ella agreed. She gave him a fresh sheet of paper and flipped through the book that was sitting on the table. "These three paragraphs," she said, putting her finger at the start.

Since Will was getting faster and more advanced, Ella had taken to simply pointing out passages of novels for him to copy, since writing lengthy assignments would be too time consuming. It also it doubled as reading practice, so he got twice as much practice with it.

A tug on her skirt told Ella that Cecily had finished. The text was nearly illegible, what with the huge smears, but Ella smiled. "Very good. Write it again under it." She refilled the pen and lifted up Cecily's hand and scrubbed the ink off and refastened the collar of the apron she wore. Their mother had Cecily wear it so she wouldn't get ink on her dress if she spilled or had a mess. It was a ratty old thing, paint splattered and old, having been previously owned by some artist in the village and purchased secondhand over twelve years ago. It bore ink stains of both Will and Ella's doing.

"I've got to go check on my cake," Ella said. "Will, if you finish, just continue on to the next paragraph. Cecily, keep using that sentence. You need to work on e's."

She left the room and then it was quiet except for the scratching of the two pens.

For a few minutes, they worked diligently, but then something caught Cecily's eye. She put her pen down after a while and looked out of the window that was behind Will's shoulder. He frowned and waved a hand at her. "No daydreaming!"

"Oh, but I saw two little birds chasing each other—there!"

In her excitement, Cecily jumped up from the table and pointed, upsetting almost everything the table was supporting. She gave a shriek and backed away at once, making sure she was unscathed, but Will wasn't as lucky. He let out a yell as his bottle of ink tipped right onto the long lesson (drenching his hard work completely) and continued to puddle off straight onto his freshly cleaned gray trousers, utterly soiling then.

"Ugh, you idiot!" he shouted, standing up. "What's wrong with you; are you daft? Look what you did!"

Cecily brought her hands away from her mouth. "Will, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to—!" She crumbled under Will's fury, his harsh tone raising tears to her eyes at once.

"Mother's going to be furious," he fumed. "Do you see this mess?!" Will put his hands on his hips and let out a breath, glaring at Cecily. "Real great, Cecily. Happy with this rubbish?"

"Will, I'm sorry!" Cecily wailed, crying now. "I didn't mean it, honest!"

"Right, right," Will scoffed. "I can't believe this. What a waste of time. Splendid work. You've won the award for world's thickest person."

"It wasn't on purpose!" Cecily insisted, her voice high pitched with hurt.

"Perfectly good pair of pants, wasted," Will muttered, attempting to sop up the worst of the ink with the rag he had been using for his fingers. "You better clean this up before Mother sees it and blames it on me," he said angrily, "because if she finds out and is on my case about it, I _won't be happy._ Understand?"

Cecily nodded mutely and Will stalked out.

* * *

"_Forgiveness is the final form of love."_

_- Reinhold Niebuhr_

* * *

"Stupid girl," Will said in undertones as he stripped his pants off in the privacy of his bedroom. "What she have to get all excited over some birds for?"

"Will?" A knock on the door sounded. "Are you in there?"

Ella. "Wait," he said, and quickly put on a new pair of trousers. "All right."

"What'd you have to do that Cecily for?" Ella demanded, closing the door as soon as she was through it. "I found her in one of the closets, sobbing her heart out, and she tells me you called her an idiot and yelled at her. And then you made her clean up the whole thing herself?"

Will, still angry, was finding it hard to feel any remorse. "She told you, then?"

"Yes, she told me," Ella said.

"Well, then don't you get it?" Will said, feeling his voice grow loud. "Look at this!" He thrust his ruined pants at Ella.

"Don't raise your voice at me," Ella said sternly. "I understand why you might be angry, but shouting at your little sister and calling her an idiot isn't the way to solve things."

"She deserved it."

"She's _five years old_. Does she really need to be treated in such a way for such a tiny event? You've made her feel worthless."

Will didn't say anything.

"She's in her room," Ella said, jerking her head toward the door. "Been crying the whole time. If you want to talk to her, feel free." With a toss of her hair, Ella went out, leaving Will standing in the middle of the room. A moment's deliberation passed and then Will groaned, throwing up his hands in defeat.

Thankfully, Cecily's door was open just wide enough for him to slip through quietly. For a while he stood there, not knowing what to say or do. Cecily lay on her bed, her face obscured by pillows.

"Er…"

There was a sharp intake of breath and Cecily shot up. She turned her tear-stained face toward Will, strands of hair falling in front of her eyes. She glared at him for a second, and then her mouth crumbled a little and Cecily turned away again. "What do you want?" she said shortly, fighting to keep the tremble out of her voice. She was putting on a brave face.

"I…er—" Will looked down at his feet. "I wanted to say something."

"Well?" Cecily didn't turn around. "I'm listening."

Will shuffled his feet. "I—" He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he mumbled in a rush. Raising his head tentatively, Will hoped Cecily still wasn't looking at him, so that she wouldn't notice how uncomfortable he felt."

"What was that?" Cecily said. "I didn't hear you."

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

Will felt his temper rise, but he pushed it down. "I'm sorry!" he said again, as loud as he could without shouting.

"I'm not quite catching that!" By now there was a definite singsong attitude to her voice.

Will frowned at the back of Cecily's head. She was waiting for more, the whole package. Girls were so sensitive sometimes.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he said. "Fine. I'm sorry I yelled at you and called you daft and an idiot and the world's thickest person. You know when I'm mad I don't think before I speak. Mother's always lecturing me on it. I didn't really mean what I said."

"You won't do it again?" Cecily asked after a long silence.

"Never," Will promised.

He stood there in the doorway, waiting for something. Was it all right to leave now? He'd had done what Ella implied that he should. It didn't seem proper just to walk away though. Will felt as thought it should be Cecily who had the final word, but she wasn't doing anything.

Then there was a rustling of bed sheets and Will looked up. Cecily had finally turned around and was staring at him. A small smile was on her face. "I believe you, _brawd mawr_," she said.

With that, Cecily leapt of the bed and threw her arms around him. Caught off guard, Will stumbled, but then steadied himself. "I really am sorry," Cecily said softly.

"I know," Will said, feeling his sister's thin frame against his. "I believe you too."

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for the longer wait. I'm sort of running out of ideas for new chapters, so it'll have to be a little longer until I think of new chapters. If you lovely readers have any requests, feel free to tell me and I'll see what I can do with them.**

**Please review!**

**Translations- **

_**brawd mawr**_** / big brother**


	13. Bloody Hell

**A/N: Sorry for not updating in forever. School's really taking a pounding on me. This chapter, since it's never really explicitly (and in case you don't catch on, though it's pretty obvious) said, is about Cecily's period cramps. And she's got really bad ones. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices. **

* * *

Cecily paced back and forth, hands against her stomach. "Oh, Will, please hurry up," she groaned. "You're taking forever."

"Well, excuse me," Will muttered, taking advancing higher on the step higher to examine the next shelf. "This is important business, _chwaer fach_. I'm disappointed you haven't grasped that fact."

Cecily gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. Leaving her brother, she took a turn around the touched Tessa's sleeve. The other girl was thumbing through a volume of Shakespeare and was deeply concentrated on the page she was on, but looked up when she felt Cecily.  
"What is it?"

"Please, tell Will he needs to find whatever he's looking for and pay so we can go _back_ to the Institute."

Tessa gave Cecily a sympathetic smile. "If he ignored his own sister, it likely he'll say yes to me?"

Cecily looked incredulous. "Of course he will," she said, like it was the most obvious statement in the world. "You and my _brawd mawr_ are…quite good friends. Besides, it's easier to say no to your own siblings over friends, wouldn't you say?"

"Just ask, please?" Cecily asked. "I'm not feeling well, to be honest. It was stupid of me to come out here."

Tessa frowned. "Why, what's wrong?"

A hesitation. "It's…er…well…" Cecily rocked back and forth on her heels, not meeting Tessa's eyes. Her deliberation all but answered Tessa's question, and she gave a gasp of realization. She pushed Cecily further down the aisle so as not to be overheard by Will.

"Woman's time?"

Red in the face, Cecily gave a short nod.

"Well. That certainly changes things," Tessa said.

"I'm not going to have an—an accident, if you will," Cecily quickly said, flushing darker than ever while she spoke. "But it would be nice if I could lay down."

Tessa nodded in understanding. She went around the corner and walked up to Will.

"What is it, Tess."

"It's time to go, Will," Tessa declared. "We've been here for nearly an hour."

Will looked up for a moment and then down at Tessa. He dropped down to the ground and shut his book with a snap. "What is with you all today? Now you're bored too?"

"No, it's just that we've dawdled here long enough," Tessa said. "There are other things we need to do."

"Such as?"

"Such as training," Tessa said. "I've already been practicing less than I normally should."

"Gabriel isn't even due for a session today," Will countered.

"What does that matter?" Tessa demanded.

Will shrugged, with that look of aloof disdain that was so infuriating to her.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you agreed to come with me," Will said, turning back to his book. "Then you could be practicing right now instead of arguing with me."

From behind the bookcase, Cecily rolled her eyes. This was going nowhere and now she was in a worse mood than ever. Coming around, she said, "I swear, Will, you'll be the death of me. Why don't you stop being such a smart-aleck and listen to us for once?"

Will smirked. "Well, well, what's gotten into you, dear sister?"

"Nothing!" Cecily said stoutly.

Will inspected her. "You're acting strange," he said, still suspicious.

_I wonder why_, Cecily thought, thankful that her brother was so clueless to the symptoms. "Maybe that's because my brother is a stubborn a—"

"Ah—ah." Will raised a hand, cutting her off. "I know you enjoy showing off your fluency in profanity, but let's not display it in such a public setting, shall we? Come on, Cecily, what's got you in such a twist?"

Cecily raised her eyebrows. "You really want to know? I'd been refraining from letting you on it for your own sake."

"Who do you think I am, Cecily?"

"Fine." Cecily put her hands on her hips and looked at him straight in the face. "Bloody hell."

Tessa's mouth fell open a little, shocked at both Cecily's word choice as well as (dare she admit it?) the cleverness of it all.

Will frowned, too confused to reprimand her. "Bloody hell, bloody hell, what's that's supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out."

"Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody…" He looked at Cecily carefully. "Am I to look at this literally?"

"Quite so," she confirmed.

Will let out a breath and rubbed his forehead. "All right. I understand," he said after a long pause.

"Then can we _go_?" Cecily said forcefully.

"Er, yes, yes," Will said.

In the carriage, Tessa kept her head ducked to hide her smile. Surely Will had never had been this flustered before. It took his sister, another high-spirited Herondale, to put him on edge? It made sense, Tessa supposed.

Cecily sat next to her, avoiding eye contact with Will. She wasn't used to discussing such personal details with a boy, much less her older brother. She had always assumed her mother would be the one to talk to, since Ella had already died by the time it was even relevant. Although it gave Cecily some pleasure to see Will squirm, she didn't quite enjoy it herself either. Such things should be confined to women only. She was quick enough to tell Will, yes, but it seemed like the only and wasn't something that she had wanted to do.

"The Institute, Master Will, Miss Cecily, and Miss Tessa," Cyril announced, opening the door. Cecily leapt down deftly without assistance and walked purposefully into the old church, Tessa and Will after her.

They met her in the foyer, where Sophie was already there, ready to greet them. Cecily took off her coat and half, handing them to Sophie. "I'm going up to rest," she told Tessa and Will. "Sophie, do you mind coming up to my room as soon as you can? I'd like to change."

"Of course, miss," Sophie complied, curtseying as Cecily smiled and left. Sophie collected the rest of their garments and hurried away to store them, leaving Tessa and Will alone in the entrance. Will bent his neck from side to side and adjusted the suit of his jacket.

"She's in a rush, isn't she?"

"Who is?" Jem said, appearing suddenly.

"Cecily," Tessa supplied. To Will, she said, "You would be too. It's not exactly comfortable."

"What isn't?" Jem asked. "I see I'm missing something."

The other two hesitated. "It's a woman's business," Tessa said firmly, hoping this would be a big enough hint to Jem so she wouldn't have to say it explicitly.

"Oh." Jem looked up to where Cecily had disappeared. "Poor girl."

"Poor indeed," Tessa agreed, "so you boys don't go making a ruckus all over the place. You especially, Will."

"Why do you say that to me?"

"Because you aren't as sensitive to other people," Tessa said. "Just stay clear for a little while. Cecily won't take it kindly if you keep barging in on her rest."

"It's not barging in, as you say, Tessa," Will said. "It's helping."

"Your sister may not see it that way," Tessa said mulishly.

"But I want to help her."

"Then don't bother her!" Tessa exclaimed. "God, men are clueless sometimes."

Jem let out a laugh, earning an annoyed look from Will.

"What's wrong with her?" Will said. "She's never seemed like this before. And you're always acting the same, no matter what time of the month."

Slightly embarrassed that she had been brought up, Tessa willed herself not to turn red. "It's different for each person and different each time. It's only a few days. Just be careful."

Will looked away, frustrated. "I only want to make sure she's not in pain. She's my sister."

Tessa softened. "I know. But I'm being honest. She'll probably just snap at you if you do."

"She can snap at me all she wants," Will said. "I'm used to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something I must attend to."

"Will—!" Tessa began.

"Leave him alone," Jem said. "He won't be deterred. You know how it is with Will."

He was upstairs in no time. Will slowly cracked the door open and looked inside. Cecily was on her back, her hands and fingers locked together and over her eyes. Was she sleeping? It didn't look like it.

"I know you're there," she said.

"Sorry." Will edged himself in and shut the door. "Just wanted to check up."

"Great." She sounded irate, her answer clipped.

Will pulled a chair up and sat down, crossing his arms. "How do you feel?"

Cecily shifted onto her side, grumbling. "I feel like I've just gotten run over by a tractor."

"That bad?"

"Yes. It's worse."

"Is there anything you want?"

"No."

"Are you—"

"Oh my God, Will, just _shut up_."

"Oh. Sorry," Will apologized again. He fell silent and looked around the room. Cecily was absolutely still, though her breathing was distinctly more labored. She changed position abruptly, curling up into the fetal position. Will half stood up, alarmed. "Cecily? What's wrong?"

Cecily shook her head, her face screwed up. "Nothing," she moaned, her eyes leaking even as she spoke. "N-nothing."

"Cecily, talk. What's wrong?" Will said frantically.

"Nothing," she repeated. "It's fine." Cecily drew her arm over her face. "I'm all right."

"You're not," Will insisted. "You're crying, for God's sake."

"I'm not!" Cecily said, even though she knew she was. "I'm—I'm—" She was cut off by a sob. Abandoning all pretenses, Cecily started crying in earnest. She shook her head, rolling over. She was sweating all over, the heels of her hands pressed into her eyes.

"Come on, Cecily, say something!" Will said urgently. "Say something or else I'll think you're dying—"

"Shut up!" Cecily said again, this time it being a shrill wail. She jerked around randomly, abruptly, like she was trying to shake something off. She arched her back, kicked her legs, and constantly changed positions. Face contorted with pain, she lay with a pillow clutched to her middle. "Damn it_, damn it!"_ she cried weakly, tears soaking her face.

It was too unnerving for Will. "I'm going to find Charlotte. She'll probably have something to help." Without waiting for an answer, Will got up from his seat and returned to the parlor, where Tessa and Jem were having tea. "Where's Charlotte?" he demanded.

"In her office," Jem said. "Why?"

Will turned to Tessa. "I think there may be something wrong with Cecily. She's not acting right. Even in—in the state she is right now."

"Don't expect to know everything in the world, Will," Tessa said, not looking at him. "She's fine."

"She is _not_," Will contradicted. "You haven't seen her; it's like she's—" Will ran his hands through his hair, grasping for the right words. "I don't know how to describe it. But she's in incredible pain, crying—"

Jem's brows contracted a little. "That does sound serious," he said to Tessa. "Maybe we should have one of the Silent Brothers look at her."

Tessa rolled her eyes. "You're just as ignorant as your friend, Jem. This is all normal. Cecily's just having a tougher time than usual. Having the Silent Brothers see her would be completely pointless. He'll just say that she needs rest, which she is right now."

"Oh, that's what doctors told _you?" _Will wondered.

Tessa colored darkly, suddenly aware of how frank the subject was. "Yes, that's what they all say," she said staunchly.

"I don't buy it," Will said at once.

"Stay out of her way," Tessa said. "I already told you. You'll just aggravate her more. Give it time to pass."

Reluctantly so, Will did. The sun dipped lower and lower, and everyone wisely avoided Cecily's room for the rest of the day. At dinner, Will and Tessa sat next to each other. While trying to maintain a normal conversation with the others, they spoke a whispered conversation on the side.

"It's been later. Permission to check on my sister?" Will asked sarcastically.

Tessa thought. "Permission granted."

"Did Bridget take her something to eat?"

"I think so."

"Good."

After a moment— "I just thought of something."

"What is it?"

"Something that might make Cecily feel better."

"I'm listening."

"A hot water bottle."

"How does that work, pray tell?"

"I'm not sure. It just does. The warmth, I suppose. It's comforting."

"Very well. And I assume you have one of these?"

"I'm sure there's one somewhere around. All we need to do is boil some water."

"Bridget!" Will shouted, startling Tessa, along with everyone else present. "Have a pot of water boiling by the time Miss Gray and I finish our meal, if you please."

"Yes, sir."

It was ready as soon as Will set down his napkin. Tessa procured a bottle from Charlotte. Will spooned the steaming water into the bottle until it was full to the brim and screwed the lid on tightly. It was then slipped into a cloth bag.

Cecily was asleep when Will knocked. She had eaten a little, Will saw, drinking a half-cup of soup. The room was bathed in a soft yellow light, the paraffin lamp on low power. Will's chair had remained in the same position, and he took it once again.

The creaking from the seat must have stirred her conscious. Cecily eyes fluttered and then opened completely. She slowly registered Will sitting near.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"What does it matter?"

"I don't know," Cecily sighed.

"It's evening. Any better?"

Cecily shrugged. "A little. Still feel like hell, but that's nothing new."

"You're definitely feeling better," Will decided. "Better than you were earlier, anyway."

"I doubt you could last ten seconds," Cecily scoffed. She reached over to her bedside table for her comb and ran it through her. Then she braided it over her shoulder and dropped her hands, half glaring at Will. "All your insides twisting in on themselves, wanting someone to pull your legs right off, your spinal cord collapsing right under you."

"I could last that and more."

"Shut up."

"That's the third time you've said that to me just today," Will noted.

Cecily cracked a small smile. Casual banter with her brother almost made her forget the agony of her cramps.

"Here. I've got this for you," Will said. He handed Cecily the hot water bottle.

"Where'd you get that?" Cecily asked. She settled it over her abdomen and let out a breath of relief. "Perfect."

"Tess thought of it," Will admitted. "She said it helps."

"You should listen to her more often," Cecily said. "Especially if you want to relieve your little sister of pain."

"For my _chwaer fach_, I will."

* * *

**A/N: I'll try to get a new chapter up soon. Please review!**

**Translations – **

_**brawd mawr **_**/ big brother**

_**chwaer fach **_**/ little sister**


	14. Halloween

**A/N: Remember that time when I said that this fanfic would be alternating between chapters of Will and Cecily when they were kids and when they're teenagers during the ID stories? Well, I wasn't able to think of an idea for the next child one, which is why this story is only just being updated now, with an ID Will and Cecily. So, if you have any prompts for me to work on, all suggestions would be greatly appreciated. **

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns The Infernal Devices.**

* * *

The four of them gathered the library as night fell. It was Halloween night, and they were going to be having some fun.

"So what's your plan, Will?" Jem asked. "It was your idea, so I assume you must have something in mind."

"Come on, James, you've spent enough Halloweens with me to know what I have in mind," Will said briskly, blowing out the match he'd been using to light a few candelabras. They lit the small alcove the four were tucked in well enough, but past the outer edge of light was just the dark shadows of the bookshelves. "First in order are some treats."

From under the table, Will brought out a tray of small candied apples. "Tessa, here's yours. Cecily, yours. And Jem. It took me a long time to make these all, so eat them up."

Tessa raised an eyebrow before tasting it. "You made these yourself? I wouldn't have thought you a chef."

"What can I say?" Will shrugged. "I'm a man of many talents."

The apples disappeared quickly, and then they all looked expectantly at Will. "Now it's time for stories. Every good entertainer has one that's able to scare some people. Cecily knows one, don't you?"

Cecily grimaced. "Don't make me, Will."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Will said stoutly. "Right here next to me, now." He moved over a little to make a space.

As Cecily got up, her brother smirked at her. "I'll be right here."

"Shut up." Cecily sat down in front of Tessa and Jem, Will close by.

"This is an old story we used to hear in Wales," Cecily began. "Will told it to me on my seventh birthday (it wasn't even Halloween, so I don't know what he was thinking)—" she gave her brother a menacing look "—after I received a present that the characters in the story also get. Scared me to death first time I heard it.

"There are three girls, triplets. When they were babies, their mother would sing this lullaby to them." And Cecily sang in a clear voice,

"_Heno, heno, hen blant bach, _

_heno, heno, hen blant bach._

_Gwely, gwely, hen blant bach, _

_gwely, gwely, hen blant bach._

_Fory, fory, hen blant bach, _

_Fory, fory, hen blant bach."_

The last note echoed throughout the library, hanging in the air like a drop of water on a branch. They waited until the sound had thinned and wavered out. Tessa shivered. She didn't know what the song meant, but the way Cecily had performed it, it had a haunting and eerie quality to it.

"Maybe the mother, after four or five years of singing it to her children, had made it a tradition to sing it at night, even if she wasn't singing it to the girls. So every night, they would hear from across the hall their mother singing this song.

"By now, the girls were approaching their seventh birthday. On the day of, they were presented each with an exquisite porcelain doll. Each one was a little different, different hairstyles, expressions, and clothing. The girls loved them. They spent the whole day playing house with the dolls and making games with them.

"When it was time for bed, the girls stood the dolls up on their dressers in front of their beds. As usual, they heard their mother singing.

"The children went to sleep. Late that night, one of the girls woke up to the sound of more singing. She thought it was odd, since her parent's room was silent. No one would be awake at that hour. Then she looked up and saw something impossible. It was the dolls that were doing the singing.

"The girl was enchanted; dolls singing! It was amazing. She quickly woke up her sisters to show them. The rest of the night they stayed up as long as they could, listening to the dolls.

"When it was morning, the girls had fallen back asleep, but as soon as they were awake, all they could talk about was what had happened the night before. Determined to witness when the dolls began to sing and see how long they sung for, the girls napped all day, so they'd be well rested during the night.

"Only something went wrong when the time finally came. The girls saw when they began, all right, around midnight. But they never knew how long they sung for. When the parents went to see them the next morning, all three were dead."

Cecily finished with a shudder. "That's the end—" She broke off midsentence and screamed, letting out a stream of fluid Welsh profanities, springing to turn around. Will had grabbed her by the sides and now stood laughing his head off, leaning against one of the bookshelves for support.

"Goddamn it, Will!" she cried furiously, after she had recovered. "Rot in hell, why don't you?" she gasped.

"Come on, Cecy; it's all part of the fun," Will managed between laughs.

"Ugh, I hate you!" Cecily pressed her hands to her head. "You know I don't like that!" Shakily, she made her way to her seat and glared at Will.

Will had calmed down now, but was still enjoying the moment. It reminded him of the tricks he'd play on her when he lived at home still. She'd spend the rest of the year plotting ways to get back at him, which usually happened around Christmas time. It was always worth it though, he'd thought.

Especially this year. He'd missed being able to pull pranks on people on Halloween, since the usual inhabitants of the Institute didn't startle as easily, being battle-hardened warriors and all.

Looking at Cecily's expression, Will sighed. "All right, all right, I'm sorry," he said. "You know how it is with us; we always used to do it." He got up and sat next to her. "_Ella dull_, all right? You said it never fails."

Cecily regarded him for a moment and the nodded silently. She reached behind to the back of her head and then parted her hair into two halves, leaving one part for Will and the other to herself. As Jem and Tessa watched confusedly, brother and sister began to braid Cecily's hair.

"What are you doing?" Tessa wondered.

"Something that calms me down when I'm worked up," Cecily explained. "My sister found out when I was younger that I would stop crying if my mother played with my hair a little. Guess it must be because keeps my mind off it. Still works today."

"And Will," Jem said slowly, awestruck. "When did you learn how to braid a girl's hair?"

"I was forced to learn to I could calm her down if I needed to," Will said. "Cecily was a bratty baby, you see, always crying."

He spoke like it had the greatest bore in the world to do, but in truth, he'd enjoyed it. It made him feel useful that he could make his sister happy again when she was upset, the same way he was feeling while he sat intertwining the threads of hair one over the other.

_I'm not going to forget what makes you feel better when you're frightened, chwaer fach, even if it has been five years. No need to worry. _

* * *

**A/N: That nursery rhyme I just found on the Internet, so I apologize if it never existed in 1878. Fit the purpose, so there you go. Also, sorry if that "scary" story Cecily tells isn't scary at all…I hate horror so I have almost no experience with it and came up with that story right off the top of my head, and still got a little creeped out while writing it. Hence the shortness of the story. **

**Another reminder if you have any prompts for when Wil and Cecily were children, tell me, please!**

**Translations – **

_**heno **_**/ tonight**

_**gwely**_** / bed**

_**fory**_** / tomorrow**

_**hen blant bach**_** / dear little children**

_**Ella dull**_** / Ella's method**

_**chwaer fach**_** / little sister**


End file.
